Cat's Cradle
by PengyChan
Summary: Gigantic, June 1991. Gentarou Hongou awakens inside a room he's never seen with a [5] written in red on the door. He has a key card, no idea of what's going on, nine hours to get out… and eight people to beat to it. Hours tick by, and the snare of fate tightens around him and his two unlikely allies as they play a Game that will define their lives - and deaths.
1. The Game

_A/N: well, here's my first multi-chaptered 999 fic. I needed a NaNoWriMo project, and this idea woudn't leave me alone, and here it is._

_A couple of things about it: the fic is set about 36 years before the game, and 27 years before the first Nonary Game. If you've read the 999 Q&A section on Aksys' site (if you haven't, do it: there's a lot of interesting info there that wasn't in the game!), you should know that before the Nonary Game there was Gordain's Game - and that Hongou himself was kidnapped to take part to it by Gordain's successor, which ended up giving him the idea for the Nonary Game itself.  
Long story short, this fic is my take on that one game. There's going to be violence and several deaths in it, but considering the kind of game that was I guess it's no surprise. I imagine those games would be more violent than the Nonary Game would be, since there was no scientific purpose behind them - only the "fun" of betting on who would live or die, since there was no chance for _all_ the players to make it out. So yeah, watch out for violence, blood and death._

_Okay, it is all. On to the fic._

* * *

**Tokyo, December 2009**

"Where on Earth _is_ he?"

Gentarou Hongou's voice came out as a thundering growl, one that heralded no good news for Kubota. He had never been an especially patient man, but that day he was even more inclined than usual to lash out. It was understandable, of course – the outcome of that meeting was of vital importance to them, and most of all to Hongou himself – but Nagisa Nijisaki was rather sure that was _not_ the right place for Hongou's anger to explode.

"Still on the stairs, most likely," Nijisaki said, his voice calm. He inwardly cursed the fact Musashidou's office _had_ to be right on the skyscraper's last floor. Just their luck, he thought, holding back a snort. "I'm sure he'll be here any moment now. Calm yourself."

Hongou draw in a deep breath and released it in what sounded much like another growl before he began pacing back and forth in the hallway. "Why couldn't he simply come in the elevator with us?" he muttered, exasperation plain in his voice.

"You know the reason why as well as I do. Claustrophobia."

"Is there one phobia that he _doesn't_ have?"

Nijisaki reached out to put a hand on Hongou's arm to stop his pacing. "Stop that, you're managing to make me seasick on top of a damn skyscraper. And calm down, alright? There is no need to get this worked up. Musashidou's office is right over there, and it's not like he's expecting us," he added with a chuckle. "So he certainly won't think we're late."

Hongou sighed. "Fine," he muttered, then, "I should hope this is the only setback Kubota will cause us today. We cannot allow this meeting to go wrong. If he dares to have a panic attack in that office you're most certainly going to have to hire a new technician for the company and a good lawyer for me, because I swear to God I-" he started, only to trail off when Nijisaki waved his hand.

"You don't have to worry: there will be no need for either. Kubota knows well he needs to be able to control himself today. He's been taking barbiturates like candy since morning," Nijisaki said. "To be honest, the one thing that surprises me is that he's even awake. The amount he took should have already put a lightweight like him to sleep."

Hongou scowled. "I should hope he did not lose consciousness on the stairs."

"Now you're being paranoid," Nijisaki said flatly, then glanced past Hongou's right shoulder and shrugged. "See, I told you. There he is."

Hongou turned to see a shorter, scrawny man climbing – or perhaps 'crawling' would have been a more appropriate term – up the last few steps of the stairs. Once on top he paused and bent forward a little, hands on his knees, breathing heavily.

"It was about time," Hongou said coldly. "Are we good to go now?"

"I'm s-s-sorry," the man managed to breathe, reaching up to wipe the sweat from his brow with a sleeve. "T-the stairs…" he paused and drew in another shaky breath before straightening himself and clearing his throat. He reached up to pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "Y-yes," was all he finally said.

"Good," Hongou said, and turned without saying another word to walk straight to the door at the end of the hallway. He heard the other two following him, heard Nijisaki telling Kubota to take deep breaths, but he paid no attention to either of them: all he could see, all he could think of, was the door he was stepping closer and closer to.

He only paused a few moments when he put his hand on the handle and turned to Nijisaki and Kubota. He could only tell them apart because of their different size and because of Kubota's thick glasses, and that – seeing no real difference between their faces, as always – did nothing but strengthen his resolve.

He clenched his jaw and opened the door.

On the other side wasn't Musashidou's office, but he already knew that: it was his secretary's. It was a large room, with a desk on one side and leather couches on the other, along with a small table. The secretary herself was typing something, but raised her gaze from the monitor immediately. "May I help you?" she asked.

Hongou nodded and stepped in, followed by the other two. "Yes. We need to see Mr. Musashidou."

She looked down on the desk, at what Hongou supposed was an appointment books. "He doesn't seem to have appointments scheduled until-"

"We don't have one," Hongou cut her off, stepping closer to the desk and leaning on it. He stared straight at her face – one that was no different from any other in the world to him – and smirked. "But I'm certain that won't be a problem."

She reared back a little on her seat. Hongou couldn't differentiate faces, but expressions were not lost to him – though subtle ones might be harder to read for him than they were for most – and her scowl was _nowhere_ near subtle. "If you wish to be received, I'll let him know so that you can take a proper appointment and-"

"Call him now," Hongou cut her off once more. "Tell him that the winners from 1991 are here. Number three, five and six. He'll know what you mean, and I'm certain he'll receive us right away," he said.

She blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"Do that. He'll know."

A few moments passed, then the secretary finally reached for the phone. Hongou didn't stay to listen to her passing the message; instead, he turned and walked back to Nijisaki and Kubota, a smirk playing on his lips. "I'm certain he'll receive us," he said quietly, turning to glance at the door at the other end of the room, the door to Musashidou's own office.

Despite his determination – convincing him to finance the experiment was his best shot at knowing more of the Morphogenetic Fields – there was a part of him that still did not want to face the man. He had been only fourteen last time they had met – just a boy who had just been through so much more than most could stand. All of them had been, and none of them was looking forward to meet one of the responsibles again… but they had to. Without him and his money, there would be no experiment.

"Are you sure you're alright?" he heard Nijisaki asking quietly, and he turned to see that Kubota seemed to be shaking, hands balled into fists.

"I'm g-going to be fine," the scrawny man said, his voice sounding forced and somewhat distant.

Hongou's eyes narrowed. "Keep yourself together, and do not speak unless you're directly addressed to – and _only_ about the technical parts. Let me and Nijisaki speak. Understood?"

Kubota nodded. "O-of course," he said, sounding very much relieved. Nijisaki opened his mouth to say something, but he didn't get a chance to speak: the secretary's voice reached them.

"Mr. Musashidou will receive you immediately," she said, surprise rather plain in her voice. Hongou felt his hear giving a small jolt in his chest, and smiled – a wide, predatory smile. "As I told you he would," was all he told her before walking up to the door, gesturing for Nijisaki and Kubota to follow. He paused in front of the door just for a moment before clenching his jaw and finally reaching out to knock.

"Do come in!"

God, his voice hadn't changed – so jovial and friendly that it manage to border into unpleasant – and Hongou heard Kubota drawing in a sharp breath. He found himself gritting his teeth before opening the door.

Musashidou's office was huge, with a glass wall that allowed a spectacular view on the city, expensive-looking carpets, leather couches and a large mahogany desk right in front of the glass wall. That was where Musashidou sat. His face was just the same as any other in Hongou's eyes, of course, but the moustache – the one thing he remembered clearly – had stayed the same, and so was the grin; all in all, the only difference he could see was that his hair had turned from inky black to gray in those years.

For a moment no one said anything, then Musashidou stood and gave a booming laugh.

"Well then, what a pleasant surprise! I certainly wasn't expecting you to visit – and after so much time," he laughed again and leant walked around the seat and up to them. "You'll forgive me for stating the obvious but my, haven't you grown," he added, sounding unsettlingly like a proud father.

Hongou's jaw clenched for a moment before he forced himself to smile politely. "Eighteen years tend to do that to people, wouldn't you agree?" he said with a smirk.

"Why, eighteen years already? How time flies!" Musashidou chortled before gesturing for them to sit on a couch. They sat, and Musashidou seated himself on the armchair across them. "If feel like yesterday that- oh, but I get ahead of myself. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask for your names. I forgot."

"My name is Gentarou Hongou, sir," Hongou said calmly before turning to the other two. Nijisaki was giving Musashidou a polite smile, while Kubota just sat there rigidly and said nothing, gaze locked dead ahead of him. His fists were clenched so tight that his knuckles were turning white, but if anything he was holding himself together… for now. "They are Nagisa Nijisaki and Teruaki Kubota respectively."

Musashidou nodded. "Oh, yes, now I remember. You'll have to forgive me, I have a very bad memory with names. I remember your numbers, though – five, three, six. The winning team. It was quite the game, I have to confess – and the outcome was nearly unpredictable. That the youngest participants would be the ones to make it out alive… it was something that surprised everyone. Everyone but me, of course – I bet on all three of you by the time you were halfway through. You gained me quite a lot of money, but I forget how much. I must say, though, that the most surprising turn of events was when our number six here," he looked at Kubota and smiled, "pulled off that stunt right at the end. Quite surprising – it turned everything around. It was the woman who died first to give you that, wasn't it? Your teacher. Number eight, was it no-"

"_Murakami_," Kubota spoke up for the first time, his voice something akin to a growl – something that caused Hongou and Nijisaki to exchange a quick glance. "Her _name_ was Kumiko Murakami."

Musashidou seemed unfazed by the anger in Kubota's voice, or perhaps even oblivious to it. "I told you I have such a bad memories for names, boy," he said lightly. "Besides, it's been quite some time. You truly have plenty of things to tell me, starting out with how you found out my identity and why you decided to… oh, my, I'm getting ahead of myself once more. Would you like something to drink as we talk? Some brandy? Coffee? How about a cigar?"

"Coffee sounds good," Hongou said pleasantly. Nijisaki politely declined, while Kubota said nothing at all.

There were several moments of silence, only broken by Musashidou's voice as he spoke by phone and asked for a coffee, some brandy and a few cigars, just in case his guests changed their mind.

Hongou did his best to block out the feeling of hatred and helplessness he had always associated to the sound of his voice, and simply focused on what was important – that man's money, that of whatever organization he was linked to, and the Gigantic. He needed Musashidou to obtain both, and needed them for the experiment. It was all that mattered now: the role that man had had in the hell he, Nijisaki and Kubota had been put through eighteen years before did not. The past no longer mattered – only the future did.

And for _his_ future to be bright, Hongou needed to have Musashidou on his side, so that the Gigantic could be his, and a game could be held in it. One more game, the last of a long series – it was all that he needed to see truly see the Morphogenetic Fields at work, once he found the right subjects and could put them in the right amount of danger to make all of their potential come out.

It was a risky gamble, but it would work, he was _certain_ it would. And why shouldn't it? It had worked for him, if for one brief moment, and it had been enough to save him – to save _them_ – eighteen years before.

* * *

**Gigantic, June 1****st**** 1991**

It was a low, steady whistle to stir Gentarou Hongou's mind from deep within a black hole on unconsciousness. He did not awaken immediately, but rather turned on his side and reached down to pull the sheets up on himself, still somewhere between awareness and sleep. His hand, though, met no sheets – only the fabric of his own trousers.

… his trousers? Had he fallen asleep with his clothes on?

And what the hell was that noise? Had his mother forgotten the coffee pot on the stove again?

The boy turned onto his back again and opened his eyes with a groan, but immediately shut them against the light. What now, had he forgotten to undress _and_ turn off the light before going to sleep?

"What…?" Gentarou grunted, hands reaching up to rub his eyes. He tried to recall the moment he had gone to sleep, but for some reason he couldn't; odd. Last thing he could recall was being on his way back home from school, completely focused on the science project due the next day. Then… then someone had called out for him to ask for directions, someone driving a van. He was asking of a street that was just nearby, so Gentarou had turned to point them to the right direction, and afterwards… what the hell had happened afterwards?

_"Are you up yet, sleepyhead?"_

The crackling of static and then the sudden, distorted voice snapped Gentarou into full awareness. His eyes snapped open once more and he hastily sat up on the bed – only to hit his head against something that was not _supposed_ to be right over his head.

The ceiling.

"Ow! _Ow_! What the _fuck_?"

_"Language, young man. Language."_

Gentarou rubbed his forehead and looked around for the source of that voice. He was startled enough to see no one, but what truly took him aback was realizing where he was. Not only it was not his bedroom – well, that much had been clear the moment he had hit his head on the _ceiling_ – but it also was absolutely not a place he could recognize. It was a small, narrow room with two bunk beds; he was on the upper bunk of one of them. There was a sink on his left, and a small, round window that reminded him of a porthole, the kind he had seen on ships.

_Ships? Am I on a ship?_

Gentarou brushed back the hair that had fallen over his eyes and looked around again. "Who's there? Where am I? What-" he began, only to trail off when his gaze fell on three things coming out of the ceiling: a small camera, a speaker, and… and something that looked a lot like a showerhead, and it was where the whistling sound was coming from. And there was something else coming out of it, he noticed, some kind of… was that…?

_"That's a special gas, my boy. Pretty deadly if you're exposed to it for too long. And since gas tends to go up, my first advice to you is coming down of that bunk Possibly now."_

Gentarou didn't even waste time to listen to those last words: he already knew how gas worked, thank you so very much, and he wasn't up to wait and see if it really was deadly as the voice claimed. He had climbed down the bunk bed in instants, and the next moment his frantic eyes had found the door. There was something written on it in red, but he didn't mind it, didn't even truly look – all that mattered was that the door was there and the whistling seemed to be growing louder and all his sense were telling him get the hell away from there before gas had filled the room. He grabbed the handle and pulled with all his might.

The door didn't budge.

"Nnnngh- _fuck_!" Gentarou growled, trying one last time to push the door open before taking a step back. There was a card reader mounted next to the door, but no key card in sight. "Hey! Is someone out there? Anyone? Help! _Help_!" he cried out, hitting the door a few times. He strained his ears to listen, but no answer – there didn't seem to be anyone on the other side.

He kicked the door in frustration. "What's going on? Where am I? Let me out of here!" he cried out, heart beating wildly and throat tightening with the beginnings of panic as he realized that the gas was coming in more and more quickly and now most of the area near the ceiling was filled with a thick fog.

_"Why, you're not expecting to be handed the way out like this, are you?" _the voice coming from the speaker asked with a chortle. _"You need to work for it. This is how the game works."_

"The… game?" Gentarou repeated, mind fumbling to think of a reasonable explanation and coming up blank. "What are you-?"

_"This is not the moment for long conversations, boy – the more you wait, the more quickly gas comes in. Look at the door."_

Gentarou turned to look at it. The thing written in red across it, the thing he hadn't stopped to read in his urgency to get out, was a number – [5]. Gentarou's gaze fell once again on the card reader mounted next to the door.

_"Your key to open it is somewhere in the room. Find it – and then hold onto it, or this game will be over for you before it can even start. Goodbye, and good luck."_

"What? Wait, wha-!"

There was another burst of static, and then the speaker went silent. Gentarou found himself unable to speak or think for a few moments, confusion thick as the mist of gas above him – then he heard the whistling noise growing louder, and gas began coming in quickly. Now the ceiling was hard to see, and Gentarou knew that once the air above was saturated then the gas pouring in the room would start to get lower and lower, until it filled the whole room… and his lungs, if he stayed in it.

And he didn't want to be there to find out if it would truly kill him. He didn't want to be there _one more minute_.

Muttering a curse, Gentarou pushed aside any questions he had – what was happening, why was it happening, where he was and who was responsible – and went to search the lower bunks first. He checked under the pillows, in the pillowcases, under the mattresses… nothing. Inwardly cursing himself for trying such obvious places – why would… whoever was responsible for that madness hide anything where he could find it so easily? – he tried to look elsewhere.

But he could find nothing – nothing in the sink, nothing in the closet, nothing on or under the table, nothing into the stove, nothing on the damn tea pot on top of it – and gas was slowly filling the room. Before long Gentarou's eyes were burning and so were his lungs. He coughed as he stumbled to the sink and turned the tap; water came out, thankfully, and he could at least splash some water on his eyes to soothe the burning feeling… but that was a minor relief, and the situation was looking bleaker and bleaker.

Gentarou reached to tug up his turtleneck shirt so that the fabric would cover his mouth and nose and glanced up to the top bunks. They were the only part of the cabin he had not yet searched since they had been almost completely covered by the gas when he had started his search, but now it was clear the key card was there – it _had_ to be there, because it truly was nowhere else.

He _really_ didn't want to consider the idea that he had been lied to, that there was no key card to be found and that he'd die there like a trapped rat.

He gave another yank to his shirt to make sure his nose and mouth stayed covered, drew in a deep breath and then held it as he began climbing up the ladder to the upper bunk. The gas was so thick there that not only he couldn't breathe, he couldn't even try to open his eyes: he could only feel around for the key card, more and more frantic with each passing moment.

He found nothing.

Gentarou almost stumbled down to the floor, and by the time he was there gas was almost everywhere – there were only a few inches near the ground that were not yet saturated, and he lay down for a few moments to be able to draw in a few deep breaths. He looked up to the other bunk bed, and felt a pang of something that was horribly close to despair in his chest when he realized that he could barely even see it. The gas was to thick and he was having such a hard time breathing already – how could he hope to be able to climb up and find the key card, if it was even there, without passing out or worse?

He swallowed, hard, and squeezed his eyes shut for a few moments before opening them again and drawing in a deep breath, forcing himself back on his feet while shaking his head to get rid of the feeling of light-headiness. He couldn't just lie down and die, he refused to! He would get back to the sink, he decided, soak his shirt and put it around his nose and mouth and then he could… then…

That line of thought abruptly stopped when he turned the tap.

No water came out, not a drop.

_No! Why? It worked until a minute ago!_

Gentarou let out a frustrated cry, despair finally starting to leak in around the imposed self-control. His knees almost gave in, and he didn't fall solely because he was gripping the sides of the sink. He tried to steady himself and looked ahead – and his gaze met the mirror. A face stared back, his own face – and still one he did not know, one that looked no different from that of anyone else in the world; he could only tell it was his own because of the sandy brown hair, and because he _knew_ it had to be him… but aside from that, the person staring back at him in the mirror was a stranger to him.

As everyone else was.

And he was going to die. He was only fourteen and he was going to die without even knowing why, without ever getting a chance to see _his own face_.

The thought caused the despair that had been building in his mind to explode in a cry of rage, a cry that filled the room along with another sound – that of a mirror shattering as his fists hit it. One of the shards cut into his skin, drawing blood, and Gentarou didn't take notice: his gaze was fixed on what was left of the mirror. Now that the mirror itself was gone, he could see that there had been an empty space behind it, and the back of it looked a lot like a bulletin board. There was something pinned on it, a folded piece of paper. Gentarou coughed and reached to take it, his heart beating faster. Maybe it was a hint – _oh please please let it be a hint_ – but before he could unfold it his gaze fell onto the sink and there, among the shards of mirror…

_The key card!_

Gentarou's free hand, the injured one, shot down to grab the white card. There was a number on it – [5] – but he barely even stopped to read: he immediately darted to the door, keeping the collar of his shirt pressed against his nose and mouth, and quickly ran the key card in the slot, fully aware of the fact that was his last chance.

There was a beeping sound that sounded like music to his ears. Gentarou immediately stuffed both the key card and the piece of paper into his vest's pocket, grabbed a hold of the door with both hands, and pulled.

The door opened.

* * *

"And number 5 is out!" Kagechika Musashidou announced with a laugh, lifting his glass in the air in a mock toast. He looked to one of the men at his left. "And you were so sure he was done for," he said with a smirk.

His words were greeted by a few laughs and a sigh. "Fine, fine, you got that right – but that doesn't mean he won already, so don't get too bold. Tables can still be turned."

Musashidou chortled. "If _your_ bet doesn't make it out of his room soon, I'm afraid the way tables may be turned won't be of your concern," he said, turning to the screen showing them room number 3. The camera had some trouble showing them much aside from the thick fog of gas, but they could make out the outline of someone moving frantically across the room, still searching for the key card that could get him out.

"Oh, knock it off. He was simply hindered by the drug's after effects. I'm certain he'll be out as well in a minute," the other man, a tall one with a pale complexion, muttered. He turned his gaze to yet another screen. "Hey, Ikeda, how's your so-called child genius doing?"

"He seems to have stopped panicking and is searching as well," a woman replied before taking another swig of her drink. "I think he's close to finding the key card. He'll make it."

"Good. It would be a pity if he never made it out – I'm quite curious to see how a child with such a high IQ can fare against adults and teens."

"Don't you think he'll be at too much of a disadvantage? He may be smart, but he's a child. He'll be completely defenseless once things get serious."

"Not completely, no. We took care of that already – speaking of which, number 8 is out as well. Not that I didn't expect her to make it."

There was a brief moment of cheering in the lounge, as always when one of their bets made it out, then another man turned back to Musashidou.

"Kagechika, doesn't this leave your bet as the most disadvantaged one? You know he has a disability, don't you?"

Musashidou chortled, leaning back on his seat. "Oh, I know. That's the reason why he was picked, I think. Kaiji must have thought throwing in someone with a disability would make things more interesting, and I do agree. He certainly chose an unusual one. I must admit it was hard resisting the temptation to make everyone dress the same way before the game started to throw him off, but that would have hardly been fair. The boy has as much right to a chance as the others. I don't think his disability will hinder him too much," he added, then turned back to the monitor and smiled. "Now, let's see how this turns out…"

* * *

Gentarou didn't run as much as he stumbled outside. He heard the door closing again behind him, but he paid no attention to it, nor he bothered to even look around to see where he was – all he was aware of as he collapsed on a cold floor was how damn _good_ being able to breathe again felt. And he did just that for several moments, just breathing deeply and thinking of nothing else.

_Breathe. Breathe._

He probably wouldn't have gotten up for several minutes hadn't the sound of footsteps first and then a voice reached his ears. "Hey! Are you alright?"

Gentarou's head shot up, and he saw there was indeed someone running up to him – a woman with a long gray gown, a white shirt with what looked like a cheap strass brooch on it and long black hair. Guessing her age was hard, as always for him, but with her voice she couldn't be younger than maybe thirty, at the very least, though more likely closer to her forties. He stood, if a little shakily, and nodded. "I… am alright," he muttered. "Where are we? What's going on?"

She sighed. "I was hoping you'd be able to tell me," she said, turning back a little. Now Gentarou could see they were in a hallway, but they couldn't see really far – the light was too dim.

"So you don't know what's going on?"

She shook her head. "No. I woke up into a cabin only minutes ago, and had to find a way out before the room was filled with some kind of gas. Did you…?"

Well, it looked like he wasn't alone in that madness, then. "Yes, it does sound familiar," he muttered. "Did you hear someone speaking? Through a speaker, I mean."

The woman nodded again. "Yes. It was a woman's voice – it woke me up and told me I should find-"

"…a key card to get out," Gentarou finished, already seeing where that was going. The only thing that didn't add up was the voice: the one he had heard, while distorted, was most definitely a man's. Perhaps there was more than just one person behind… whatever the hell was going on. "Is that right?"

"Yes. I take it you went through the same. You look terrible," she added, and now there was a worried note in her voice. She seemed about to add something else, but then there was a distant noise, like… like…

"Tell me that _doesn't_ sound like rushing water to you," Gentarou said flatly. Last thing he needed now was a damn _flood_.

The woman took a step back. "It does. Let's get away from here," she said with a urgency that Gentarou didn't understand at first. Then he was reminded of the small window beyond which was only darkness in the room he had awakened into, of how he had thought it looked everything like those one would see on a ship, and he could _feel_ blood draining from his face.

_A ship? Are we _really_ on a ship? _

That made the sound of rushing water even _worse_ news than he had thought it was.

"We have to go," the woman's voice reached him, causing him to recoil. "This way, quick!"

They turned, and ran. It wasn't a long run: they could see where they were heading to. There were a few steep stairs on their left, and just above those… a door. A metal door with no number. Gentarou was faster, but she followed him closely enough. The sound of rushing water was still there, but it grew faint as they kept running, only skidding to a halt in front of the stairs and the door. And there was no card reader, so maybe…

"I hope _this_ opens," Gentarou growled, reaching to grab the handles and pulling. The door opened. "Yes!"

They both ran through it, closed it behind them… and then stopped short when they saw what was in front of their eyes, on the other side.

Gentarou closed his eyes, shook his head and then opened them again, but nothing had changed – the majestic-looking staircase was still there, as was the huge grandfather clock and everything else that seemed to be coming straight from a century earlier.

"What. The. Hell," he said, his voice sounding distant to his own ears.

The woman beside him sounded just as stunned. "I… I have no words," she said, looking around the large room, then, "I think we should move. If there is an opening somewhere on the ship – yes, I still think this is a ship – then we'd be safer the higher we go, wouldn't you think?" she added, meaningfully nodding towards the staircase.

Gentarou had to admit she had a very valid point. "Alright. Let's go," he said. They didn't run this time – with the door closed and the sound of rushing water no longer to be heard they felt slightly safer – but they did walk quickly to the staircase and then up the stairs. "Do you have any idea how you winded up here?" Gentarou asked as they climbed the stairs. "Last thing I remember is giving directions to someone with a van," he added. He was actually starting to think he had guessed exactly what had happened the moment he had turned his back to them to give them the directions they had asked for, but now he wanted to know if she's confirm his hunch.

"I have vague memories, I'm afraid," the woman replied, her breathing a little quicker form their run earlier and from climbing the stairs now. "I remember I was unlocking my house's front door, and someone seized me. I smelled something before passing out, and the more I think of it the more I'm sure it was chloroform," she added. "Perhaps they did the same to you."

Yes, Gentarou thought, that had to be it. But still… "Why? Why would someone kidnap us? Why are where here? _Where_ is here? What's going on? Who-" he trailed off, eyes widening a little when something reached his ears from above him, something he hadn't expected to hear.

A girl's voice.


	2. The Players

"This way – I heard someone talking, I tell you!"

Both Gentarou and the woman stopped in their tracks and abruptly looked up, where they had heard the voice coming from; yes, it seemed to be that of a girl. "Is someone else there?" Gentarou called out, and blinked when several voices answered.

"Yes! Over here!"

"Who's there?"

"Stay where you are, we're coming down!"

Gentarou and the woman both nodded, even though they knew that whoever they were talking to could not see them. "Alright!"

There was the noise of several pair of feet pounding down the stairs, and moments later they were facing five people. Their faces held no difference from each other as far as Gentarou was concerned, so he focused on their hair and clothing. There was a tall man with blond hair and a gray shirt, a woman with short red hair and jogging clothes, another woman – shorter, probably a girl – with brown hair, a multi-colored jumper and headphones around her neck. On the back of the group where two other men, both of them with short black hair, but one was lanky and wore what looked like a business attire while the other, shorter and far sturdier, wore black trousers and a pink – _pink_? – undershirt that was probably meant more to show off muscle than to cover much of anything.

There were a few moments of silence as they stared at each other, then, as though someone had turned on a switch, they began speaking all at once. It didn't take much for Gentarou to realize that they had all gone through the same thing – awakening into a cabin without knowing why, heard someone telling them about a game, and having to find a key card to escape the room as it slowly filled up with gas.

All in all, that gave Gentarou absolutely no hints of what the hell was going on there – and he clearly wasn't the only one to be disappointed.

"So you don't remember anything more, either," the blond man muttered with a sigh, dropping his shoulders.

The woman Gentarou had met in the hallway shook her head. "No, I'm afraid not. But you were upstairs, weren't you? Have you found any way out?"

The woman in jogging clothes shook her head. "No, no way out. Locked doors on Deck A. We found _something_ we may be able to open on Deck B because there are card readers, but we heard you coming before we tried to figure out how to do it, so we went back to check and-"

"Hey, isn't this odd?"

The voice that reached them belonged to the girl with the multicolored jumper, who sounded like she couldn't be older then sixteen. She was holding a key card, and the man in business attire was holding up his own.

"What _isn't_ odd?" Gentarou asked dryly.

She gestured to the key cards. "I mean, we're looking at these, okay? We all have one. Mine is number is [4], and his," she gestured for the man in business suit, "is [9]. What's your number?"

They all pulled out their cards. Gentarou's read [5], that of the woman he had met in the hallway read [8], the blond man's read [1], that of them woman in jogging clothes read [2] and that of the man with the pink undershirt read [7].

"See what I mean?" the girl spoke. "The numbers go from [1] to [9], but we're only seven here."

"That's true," Pink Undershirt muttered, his voice sounding raspy as though he was gargling glass. "Number [3] and [6] are missing. Do you think that means…?"

There was a brief, but heavy silence. "Perhaps someone didn't make it out on time," the man in business attire, the one with card number [9], finally spoke gravely.

Gentarou swallowed, his hands suddenly clammy with sweat. He didn't much care of whoever had never made it out of their cabin – he most likely wouldn't know them, so why should he? – but if someone had truly _died_ back there… then it was the definite proof that whatever sick game they were playing truly _was_ deadly.

"Maybe we should… go back and see if we can find someone," the girl with card [4] finally murmured, but she didn't sound convincing; she certainly did not really want to go back.

It was the woman with the gray gown, the one Gentarou had met first, to shake her head. "No, that's not an option. When this boy and I made it out of that hallway downstairs, we heard water coming in. If we're inside a ship as I think, then it might mean-"

Her last words were covered by the sudden sound of rushing water.

That alone would have been enough to make them all turn and run, but something else followed – a door slamming shut, a half-yelled curse and the pounding sound of someone running on the lower deck – and kept them all glued in their place for just a moment before Gentarou and a few others rushed to see what was happening below them.

The first thing Gentarou thought as he looked down was that they had found the missing number [3] and [6], because there were two people on running through the room and to the staircase – a boy with black hair and a gray waistcoat and a child with impossibly ruffled hair, thick glasses and a striped shirt. The he realized – they _all_ realized – what they were running from: there was water coming in quickly from beneath the metal door between them and the hallway they had come from, and it was clear the water's pressure was too strong for the door to hold it back for long.

"Don't just stand there! Get upstairs!" the boy with the waistcoat barked at them as he ran up the stairs two steps at time, dragging the child along. No one needed him to repeat himself: they all turned on their heels and began running back up the stairs as well, just as they heard the door finally giving in and the roar of an impressive mass of water rushing inside.

By the time they reached the end of the staircase, the sound of rushing water was almost completely covered by that of Gentarou's own beating heart and rushing blood. He almost staggered on the last step before stopping and looking around, breathing heavily.

"We're… we're trapped," Business Attire panted, looking around the room frantically.

Gentarou's mouth went dry. "Trapped?" he repeated, and straightened himself to look around – only to see nothing but closed doors that were not opening despite all of Pink Undershirt's attempts, and metal plates covering what he supposed were windows. But the most impressive thing was the glass dome above them, huge and closed by metal plating as well.

The man was right, Gentarou realized – they were trapped.

The realization hit him the same moment someone slammed against his back, almost making him lose his balance. He managed to regain his footing and turned to glare at the one who had ran in him – the boy with black hair and the waistcoat, still holding the child's arm with one hand. The kid was a runty thing, skinny and sickly pale, and he seemed scared out of his wits.

"What the…? Why are you all just standing here? We have to move! This damn ship is filling up with-" Waistcoat began, only to trail off when Pink Undershirt spoke up.

"This is a dead end," he muttered, wiping some sweat off his brow. "All doors are blocked, and this one needs a key. Unless you've got one up your ass, we're not going anywhere."

Gentarou may not be able to actually _see_ the face of other boy – who was probably no older than himself now that he could hear him speaking clearly and could see he was shorter than himself – but he could see, very well, all color draining from it.

"Trapped?" he repeated, clearly taken aback, and seemed about to ask something else, but he was cut off by the child's sudden cry.

"Miss Murakami!"

That name made the woman Gentarou had met first – who was panting and leaning against the wall for support – suddenly look up and turn, growing just as pale as Waistcoat had only moments before as her eyes found the child with glasses.

"Teruaki?" she called out, her voice shaking. "What in God's name are you doing here?"

"I-I don't k-know, I…" the child stammered before a terrified sob wracked his chest. He twisted his arm free of Waistcoat's slackened grip and ran to the woman, who crouched down to take him in her arms, and held him tight.

Waistcoat seemed taken aback. "You know each other?" he asked Gentarou, still breathing heavily, and Gentarou shook his head.

"Not really. None of us knows the other – aside from the two of them, apparently."

That had come as a surprise to the others as well. "May I ask how you know each other?" the man with blond hair asked.

The woman – Murakami, as she had been just called – looked up at them, still holding the shaking boy close to her chest. "I'm Teruaki's private teacher," she explained, "but I cannot think of any reason why either of us is here – God, especially not _him_," she added, anguish plain in her voice. "He's just a child!"

"Whoever brought us here must be sick," Jogging Suit, the woman with card number [2], almost growled. "What kind of _game_ is this supposed to be, locking up people into a sinking ship? Why-" she trailed off when the girl with the jumper raised her hand.

"Hey, listen!"

They all fell quiet and listened, and they heard… nothing.

"The water seems to have stopped," Business Attire spoke first, sighing in relief. "Perhaps we should go down and see which parts of the ship are still accessible."

The agreement on that was almost unanimous – the only ones not to speak were Murakami and the child – Teruaki, was it not? – who were still holding on each other; she seemed to be speaking in his ear, trying to calm him down.

Gentarou turned to look at Jogging Clothes. "You mentioned you had found something on Deck B that we might open," he said. "What did you mean by that?"

"Doors," was the reply. "Come, let us show you – give than they're not underwater now…"

As luck would have it – or maybe it wasn't luck, maybe it was all planned – water had not reached the B Deck. Nor it had reached to deck below: Pink Undershirt went to take a look, and reported that water had stopped at D Deck, momentarily taking everyone's attention from the huge metal doors – one of which read [4] while the other read [5] – in front of them, both with a card reader next to them.

"And it's still as a mirror, too," he added. "It just… stopped coming in."

"Maybe whoever put us on this ship has the means to control the raise of the water," Murakami suggested. The child, Teruaki, was clinging to her gown, almost hiding behind her.

"So the point was to scare us?" Blondie asked, reaching up to scratch his head.

"It could be. None of us can know for sure, since we don't even know what's going on, or who's behind this… we don't even know how we should call each other," Business Attire spoke.

The idea of finally having a name to call everyone by – he felt rather stupid mentally calling them by their clothes – sat rather well with Gentarou. "We can at least tell each other that. I'm Gen-" he began, but he trailed off with a yelp when Pink Undershirt hit the back of his head. "Ow! What the _shit_ was that about?"

"Don't say your real name!" the man rebuked him. "We know for a fact we were being watched and listened into the cabins, so who says we're not being watched and listened to right now? Whoever the hell was it to put this shit together is not someone I'd like to know my real name."

"I can't see how that matters," Gentarou said irritably, rubbing the back of his head. "We were kidnapped, and chances are that whoever did it kept en eye on each of us for a long time. They must know more than just our _names_."

"I agree with him," Waistcoat said, speaking for the first time in several minutes – in that time the girl with the jumper had filled him in with what had happened to all of them, and he seemed to have an identical tale to tell. "I see no point in it, either – whoever got us here must know a lot about us already anyway. Besides, no one says we have to yell each other name, surname, social security code and shit. First names will do. Mine is Nagisa," he added with a shrug.

The girl with the jumper tilted her head a little. "Isn't that a girl name?"

Nagisa's frame stiffened a little. "It can _also_ be a boy name, you know," he said a little pointedly, as though she had just hit a raw nerve.

"Now, now," the blond man said, shaking his head at the girl. "Don't be that close-minded. Gender is not a binary thing, you see. If she identifies as a woman, then she is one."

"I… what…?" Nagisa sputtered. "No, no! I'm a guy, alright? And I identify as a guy. Like, a lot."

A sigh. "See, this is one of the problems with today's society: they made it so that being referred to as a woman would seem like a bad thing. That's why you've felt insulted," he muttered.

"Wha…? I'm not saying I'm insulted, I'm just saying I'm a guy!" Nagisa protested.

"And I'm actually pretty sure plenty of women would be taken aback at being referred to as men. I would be," Jogging Clothes commented with a shrug. "Just saying."

"And before you ask, _this_ only happened because I put a white undershirt in the washing machine with a red one," Pink Undershirt said quickly. "Just, uh, saying."

"That's not my point," Blondie protested. "What I'm saying is-"

"Uh, excuse me?" Gentarou called out, trying to ignore the beginnings of what threatened to turn into a pounding headache. "This is very interesting and all and I'd love to know more about it once we're the hell out of here, but I think the situation at hand requires our attention _now_."

"I agree," Nagisa said quickly, clearly impatient to change subject. "You were about to say your name."

"Gentarou," he replied with a small nod, waiting for someone else to speak. It was Murakami to break the silence.

"Well, everyone already heard my name and Teruaki's as well, so I suppose we'll pass, too," she said, and it didn't escape Gentarou that the boy wasn't letting go of her gown yet, and seemed unwilling to even speak.

Jogging Clothes sighed. "Yeah, well… hope you don't mind, but I think it's better safe than sorry, so I'll be making up a name anyway. What about you guys?"

"I'm for a code name too, yes."

"Better safe than sorry and all that."

"Good point."

"Right."

"So, what code names are we picking?"

It was Business Attire to speak first. "Well, there's nine of us here, so how about something simple? I'd say we can go with planets. For example, I have card number [9] – so I could be Pluto."

"I thought some scientists argue that Pluto is not a real planet," Jogging Clothes commented.

Pluto shrugged. "Well, it still is, for now. Poor little guy. No matter what they say, he'll always be a planet for me," he said, then he seemed to realize everyone was staring at him, for he cleared his throat a little embarrassedly. "Er… regardless, what do you think of using planets as code names?"

Blondie nodded. "Sounds good to me. So I would be Mercury, then."

Jogging Clothes seemed amused. "Oh, so I'm Venus? I can go with that."

The girl with the jumper shrugged. "Fine with me. I'm number four, so that would be… er…"

"Mars," Pluto supplied helpfully.

"Mars. Alright, I like it," she said before turning to Pink Undershirt – who had yet to claim his own code name, having been the one to suggest them in the first place. The reason why was obvious the moment Gentarou focused enough to remember what number he _exactly_ had.

"Not that the idea of going with planets isn't practical or anything, but…" the man was saying, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. "Can't say I'd love the code name I'd get. My card is number [7], and… you know."

"… _oh_. Right," Pluto said, and a small chuckle escaped most people of the group, relieving at least a bit of tension. Gentarou's own lips curled for a moment.

"Sounds like an exception should be made, then," Nagisa said with a small chuckle. "How about… don't know… week?"

"Week?"

"Well, seven days, so…" Nagisa paused, then he shrugged. "Fine, not week. Doesn't anyone else have an idea? Gentarou?"

Gentarou opened his mouth, but someone else got there first.

"H-how about N-Nitrogen?"

The squeaky, nervous voice caught them all by surprise: the child had barely even spoken, and they had almost forgotten he was even there. Everyone turned to look at him, and the boy seemed to be doing his best to shrink, still clinging to Murakami's gown; Gentarou suspected that her hand on his shoulder was the only reason why he wasn't just hiding behind her.

"Nitrogen?" Mercury repeated, his voice gentle enough to seemingly reassure him at least a little. "It sounds nice. Why would you pick that?"

The child – Teruaki – didn't seem to really appreciate being looked at, and kept his eyes downcast as he spoke again. "W-w-well, it's t-the seventh element of the p-p-periodic table of elements, so I t-though…" his voice faded and he said nothing more. Gentarou could see Murakami's grip on the boy's shoulder tightening a little in a gentle squeeze, and the child's frame relaxed a little; she truly seemed to have a calming effect on him.

The man scratched his chin, then smiled in a clear attempt at seeming friendlier than he looked. Gentarou could not tell his face apart from any other, but if his powerful physique was of any indication he did _not_ look reassuring at all. "Nitrogen, uh? Sounds good, kid. I'll just shorten it a bit. Nitro it is. Thanks for the help, kid."

Teruaki seemed surprised by his thanks. "A-ah… y-you're welcome," he stuttered, gaze fixed on his shoes.

Nitro turned to Gentarou. "Hey, sorry about before. For, you know…" he said, making a vague gesture that was probably meant to be the smack he had given him earlier.

Gentarou opened his mouth to tell him that it didn't matter, that now that they knew how to call each other they could stop wasting time and focus their attention on the numbered doors in front of them, but something made his voice die in his throat: a sudden burst of static, followed by a voice that sounded horribly familiar to Gentarou.

_"Well, well. Now that all introductions have been made, it's high time we welcome you aboard the Gigantic."_

Everyone's eyes immediately shot up to the ceiling, where they could now see a speaker – and a camera.

"Aboard the… what? Hey, you! What going on? Why are we here?" Venus spoke up first, anger plain in her voice. "Let us out! This is not funny – it never was to begin with!"

_"Oh, it doesn't have to be fun. Actually, it's a very serious thing. You see, you're going to take part to a game – or a rite, if so you prefer. One where your very life will be on the line."_

Gentarou felt as though he had just swallowed a rock. Those words may have seemed exaggerated or downright ridiculous in another context, but after being kidnapped and almost gassed… they did not. At all."A game? A rite? Are you insane?" Mercury snapped, his hands balling into fists. "For heaven's sake, there are _children_ here!"

Children? Gentarou blinked and turned to glance at Teruaki, who was still cowering against Murakami's side, then the realization hit him – since all of them but Teruaki, Nagisa, Mars and himself were adults, they were counting them all as children. The thought would have annoyed him in other circumstances, but right now he couldn't even begin to care, because one moment later the voice laughed. It was an amused, cheerful, even pleasant laugh, and that somehow made it the most horrible one Gentarou had ever heard in his life.

_"Oh, we'll see how much you care for children once the game has started. You'll find out just how powerful survival instinct is, how nothing matters in the face of death," _the voice said once the laughter subsided. "_But I digress; the point is, there is a way out, and you need to find it before the ship sinks. You have nine hours… well, a bit less, really. It was nine hours when you awakened. You all have a key card; hold onto it, or you'll be lost. As for the rules, all of you should also have a piece of paper. Don't you?"_

All of them dug a hand in a pocket, and all of them took out a piece of paper; Gentarou still had the one he had found on the bulletin board behind the mirror, when he had also found the key card. On the corner of the eye, Gentarou saw Nagisa unfolding his and starting to read.

_"Very well then. All the rules are written there; read them carefully, for failure to respect them will result in failure from our part not to touch the remote control that keeps the watertight doors shut. You're being watched closely; break one single rule, and the ship sinks with all of you in it. Is that clear?"_

Gentarou gritted his teeth. "You bastard," he growled.

A chuckle._ "Language, young man – don't make me repeat myself," _the voice said lightly, then,_ "very well, I think I've told you all you may need to know. We welcome all of you to Gordain's Game – and we wish each of you luck."_

Another burst of static, and the room fell completely silent. For several moments, none of them said anything: they could only stare at the speaker as though in a trance, and in those instants of utter silence they could clearly hear the faint, ominous creaking noise coming from the very bowels of the ship.

* * *

"Alright, here's the thing," Pluto was saying, staring down at the piece of paper in his hands; pretty much all of them had already read the rules on their own and didn't really need a recap, but he had insisted.

"Should any of us make a mistake, we all die," he had pointed out, and in the end they had agreed to have one last run through the rules. Gentarou barely listened, most of his thoughts focused on trying to think of what that Gordain's Game madness could be about, what that name could possibly mean – but he could think of nothing, and none of the others seemed to know anything, either. In the end, he let go of that line of thought and tried to listen to whatever Pluto was saying.

"Each door we must go through has a number on it; to open it, we must use key cards whose digital root is the same as the number on the door. Does anyone need to be told again how digital roots work?"

"No."

"It's fine."

"We got it the first three times, professor," Nitro grumbled.

"I'm starting to wonder if this is all a plot from my school to make math seem interesting," Gentarou heard Nagisa muttering under his breath, and despite the situation his own lips curled into a smirk. Oh, he wished it could turn out to be something trivial as that!

Not at all put off by those remarks, Pluto went on. "Very well. Moving on: only one team at time can enter each door, using no less than three and no more than five cards, regardless the amount of people who will get through – but those who enter _must_ have passed their own card in the reader. So this means that no more than five people can get through one door. Each of us has one assigned card, which is the one we must always have with us. No one whose assigned card has not been used can enter a door. One person can use more than one card, but they must _also_ use their assigned one. But, since using more than one card each would mean leaving someone without one and thus behind, that's not an issue," Pluto paused and looked over all of them. "Or is it?" he asked, his voice having hardened. No one said anything, but Gentarou couldn't chase from his mind the words they had heard only minutes earlier from the speaker.

_Oh, we'll see how much you care for children once the game has started. You'll find out just how powerful survival instinct is, how nothing matters in the face of death._

He gazed at the others in silence. He didn't trust anyone but himself, let alone in a situation such as that one. The piece of paper they all had also stated that those in front of them were not the only numbered doors that there are on the ship, that the last one they'd encounter would need a digital root of [9] to open. Gentarou was certain he could not be the only one to realize that the 'no more than five' rule meant that not everyone could get out of there – so what would keep any of those people from taking his card from him to use it, leaving him behind to save themselves?

Nothing would.

Gentarou promised himself not to turn his back to anybody before turning his attention back to Pluto.

"Good. Now that we have this cleared up, I think we should decide the teams," he said, folding the piece of paper and putting it back in his pocket.

"Wait a moment," Venus spoke up, her gaze shifting from one door to the other. "If we go through different doors, who says we'll meet again?"

"We must," Murakami spoke up; she was standing a little aside from them, with Teruaki still close to her. "If we are supposed to open doors that need different number combinations, we _must_ meet again at some point."

"Good point," Venus said with a nod. "Alright then, I suppose we should start making the teams. According to my watch, we have less than eight hours left. We cannot waste much time."

"Agreed," Nitro muttered. "So, how do we form them? I'd say we should let the kid stay with his teacher," he added, nodding towards Murakami and Teruaki.

That caused Teruaki to speak for what was maybe the fourth time since when they had met. "I- I'm not a kid. I'll be t-ten in t-three months," the boy protested, and Gentarou bit back a comment on how he would have sounded more believable hadn't he been stuttering half the words while still clinging to Murakami's gown.

Murakami chuckled weakly and put a hand on his shoulder. "I'd be very grateful if you could let us go through the same door. Teruaki is brighter than you may think and I'm sure he'd be fine on his own," she said, smiling down at the boy. "But I'd feel infinitely relieved if I could make sure he's alright all the time."

"That's perfectly fine," Pluto said pleasantly. "The two of you can go through door [5] with Nitro and Venus – your digital root amounts to exactly [5]. The rest of us will go through door [4]," he said, looking at Mercury, Gentarou, Nagisa and Mars. "Our digital root is [4], after all. Is that alright with you?"

Gentarou nodded. "I can't see why not," he said, and the other nodded.

"Fine with me," Venus said, and took a step towards door [5] – only to stop when Teruaki suddenly spoke up.

"_No_!"

Everyone turned to look at the child and Murakami stared down at him in surprise, but he didn't seem to even take notice of their gazes: he was staring at door [5], shaking violently, and he had let go of his teacher's gown to fold his arms on his stomach as though in pain.

"What is it? Are you hurt?" Nagisa asked worriedly.

The child shook his head. "N-n-no," he said, his voice shaking. "I j-just… I d-don't want that door. I d-don't like it."

Gentarou scowled in annoyance. Last thing that was needed was a stupid kid making a scene. "What does it mean, you don't like it? It's a _door_. You just have to go _through_ it. What's the problem with that?"

Teruaki shook his head, and when he spoke again his voice sounded strained, as though he was on the verge of crying. "I d-d-don't know, I just… p-please, I don't want t-that door. _Please_," he begged, reaching to grab Murakami's gown with shaking hands. "D-don't make me go through that one!"

Murakami opened his mouth to say something, but Mars got there first.

"Aww, you don't have to go if you don't want to," she said, smiling down at him and reaching to ruffle that impossible hair of his. "I'm sure there is another combination so that you and your teacher can go through the other door. Either one works for me anyway."

Nitro shrugged. "Yeah, same. Just let's think of something quick."

Venus scratched her head. "Let me think. If you and Murakami want to go through door [4], then we could-"

"I think I have the solution," Nagisa spoke up. "Mars is right, we can go through both doors and let Teruaki go through door [4] with Miss Murakami. If the two of them, Gentarou and I go through door [4], all of you will be able to go through door [5]. How does that sound, kid?"

The boy sniffled and seemed to think about it for a moment, then he nodded with what seemed a hesitant smile – Gentarou couldn't tell for sure. "I… y-yes, that's f-fine. T-thank you."

"Very well, than it's set," Pluto said pleasantly. "Mercury, Venus, Mars, Nitro – do follow me," he added, and walked up to door [5]. The others followed him, pulling out their own key cards. Gentarou watched in silence as they swiped them in the card reader's slot, and as the door opened slowly wit a metallic groan, showing a large hallway. Behind him Teruaki was shuddering, but he didn't notice: he was too intent watching the others walking inside.

"See you later. Stay safe," Venus said one moment before the door groaned once more and then closed, hiding them from sight.


	3. Door 4

_A/N: this chapter is longer than the others (the longest one so far), but I couldn't think of a good place to break. Hope it's not an excessively boring read, at least. _XD

* * *

There were a few moments of silence after Door [5] closed. It was Nagisa to eventually break it.

"I suppose we should get going," he said quietly.

Gentarou nodded. "Let's go," he said, and walked up to door [4], reaching to take the key card out of his pocket. He passed it through the reader, Nagisa did the same with his own, and Murakami passed both hers and Teruaki's through; they all took a step back as the door opened with a long, drawn out grinding noise of metal on metal, revealing a long hallway filled with doors.

They stood there for just a moment, as though hesitating, but Gentarou knew they could not hesitate: they could go nowhere but forward, after all. So he stepped in first, and the others followed; Teruaki was still holding tightly on Murakami's hand, and the door began closing one moment after they stepped in. Gentarou found himself swallowing uncomfortably the moment the door shut with a clang: it felt like being sealed into his grave.

Not that the thought was too inappropriate, considering that there was a risk that the ship would turn into their grave. "We cannot waste time," he said, trying to hide his nervousness. He put the key card back in his pocket and glanced down the hallway. "There's a door on the other end. Let's try that first, and check the other doors if it doesn't open."

"Go ahead, then," Murakami said. "Teruaki and I will wait here and start trying the doors. If the door opens, we'll reach you – if it doesn't, we may as well save time and check these doors starting from both ends."

Gentarou nodded. "Works for me. Let's go," he added, gesturing for Nagisa to follow. The other boy did follow, and they began running side by side through the hallway to reach the door as quickly as possible – as Gentarou had already pointed out, they had no time to waste.

"Doesn't it seem a bit too easy to you, that the door may just open?" Nagisa asked as they ran.

"I'm not that optimistic, no," Gentarou replied. "But it can't hurt trying."

"True enough."

But, as they had both expected, the door at the end of the hallway was locked and would not budge. "Damn," Gentarou muttered before turning and glancing at for Murakami and Teruaki, who had paused for a moment to look at them before they resumed trying the doors on their end. He watched for a few moments, just enough to see none had opened so far, then Nagisa called for his attention.

"Hey, look at the keyhole. There is something engraved above it."

Gentarou turned to look. He was right, there was something engraved above the keyhole – a circle with… and arrow? "It looks like the 'male' symbol," he finally said. There was something else to it, he was sure of it, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what-

"Which is exactly what I _am_, regardless what Mercury and Mars say…" Nagisa grumbled,

…wait. "Mars?" Gentarou repeated, straightening himself.

"Uh… yes, Mars. You know, when she asked if my name wasn't a girl name, and I said-"

"That's what the symbol is of," Gentarou cut him off.

Nagisa blinked. "What?" he asked, turning to look at the keyhole again, then, "oh, wait – I get it. This is also the symbol for Mars, right? As in, the planet, not the girl."

Gentarou rolled his eyes. "Why, thank you for pointing _that_ out," he muttered. He reached to run his fingers across the symbol. "There must be some kind of meaning to this. Maybe it's a hint of some kind. Maybe it will help us find the key."

"And the key has to be in one of these rooms," Nagisa muttered.

"Exactly. Better start looking. I'll take the right side."

"The left for me, then."

Gentarou went to the first door on the left and reached for the handle. He could see that Murakami and Teruaki were getting closer now, having already tried most of the doors and finding them locked, and he felt a sudden sense of urgency – at least one of the doors at their end just _had_ to open, or else they'd be stuck there to drown like rats. He gripped the handle tight, lowered it and pulled with all his strength…

… only to stumble backwards when the door opened with ease.

"Whoa!"

"Hey, watch out!"

Gentarou's fall was stopped by someone grabbing him behind the shoulders – Nagisa. "Looks like you didn't need pull like you were trying to move an elephant," he commented with a chuckle as he pushed him back upright, then, "my door opened, too."

Gentarou looked back to see that indeed, both doors had opened – so they were left a chance to find a way out. He let out a sigh of relief. "Good," he said, then, he turned to see that Murakami and Teruaki had checked all doors and were walking up to them.

"It seems that these two are the only doors that open," Murakami mused, glancing at the larger door in front of them. "I suppose we should search them for this one's key."

"It seems like it, yes. Let's split up; Gentarou and I will look in this one," Nagisa said, gesturing to the door behind him. "You and Teruaki search the other. Call out or something if you find anything."

For a moment she seemed to hesitate, something that surprised Gentarou: she had insisted on not being apart from Teruaki, after all. The child seemed to sense her hesitation, too, for he looked up at her, eyes wide behind thick glasses. "Miss Murakami?" he called out in what was little more than a pitiful meow.

That broke her hesitation immediately. "Fine," she said, reaching down to put a hand on the child's shoulder and guiding him to the open door on their left.

Nagisa gave Gentarou's shoulder a small pat to get back his attention and gestured for the door on the right. "Let's go."

Gentarou frowned a bit while following Nagisa through the door. "Who died and made you a leader?" he asked. No matter the situation, following someone else's instructions always left a bad taste in his mouth. He'd rather do things his way… even though he had to admit that the course of action Nagisa had suggested was the most logical one.

"Look who's talking. You've been playing the big boss since the moment we stepped through door [4]," Nagisa replied with a shrug. "Let me have my moment, too."

Gentarou decided not to say anything and just took a look around. It looked like a cabin, but it was far larger than the one he had awakened into – it had a living room, a bedroom, and another door that he supposed led to the bathroom. "You search the bedroom; I'll search this room," he said, taking a mental note to search the bathroom as well if the search in that room wielded no results.

A chuckle. "See, you're doing it again?"

"Doing what?"

"Playing the boss."

A snort. "Can we please cease this nonsense and search?" he grumbled.

"Yessir," Nagisa replied, a little too flippantly for Gentarou's tastes, as he disappeared into the bedroom. He tried to ignored that and just busied himself searching among the couch's pillows.

Being into another room, however, didn't keep Nagisa from talking. "So, how did they get you?" he asked.

"Get me?"

"Yes. You were kidnapped as well, weren't you?"

Oh. Right. Gentarou shrugged, turning his attention from the couch to the drawers of a small table. "Yes. All of us were, or so everyone claims. I was getting back home from school, and someone on a van asked for directions. I don't remember anything from there, so I guess they drugged me when I turned my back to tell them where they should go."

A chuckle came from the other room, along with the noise of a drawer being closed. "That's how they got me, too. Who knows, maybe we snoozed next to each other in the same van. Heh. Serves us right for – damn, this drawer won't budge – talking to strangers, uh?"

"_Everyone_ is a stranger," Gentarou said bitterly, the words out of his mouth before he could even _think_ them.

"What?"

He bit his lower lip. "Never mind," he muttered, stepping back and looking around once more. "I can't find anything here. I'll check the bathroom," he said. But he could only take a few steps when the door opened, and someone stepped him – Murakami.

Gentarou blinked. "Have found something?" he asked eagerly.

She shook her head. "No, we have not. I simply need to speak to you. Where is Nagisa?"

"Here," Nagisa muttered, his head popping out from the side of the doorframe. "What is it? And where's Teruaki?"

"I convinced him to keep searching by himself once I made sure the room was safe," was the reply. "What I have to tell you… it might upset him. I don't want him to listen."

Gentarou wasn't sure he liked where that was going. "What is it?"

She smiled, but it was a weak smile. "You're two bright boys. I'm certain you already realized that we cannot all leave this ship."

Nagisa stiffened by his side. "We… I can't see why not," he said, not sounding convinced at all. "I-"

"No, listen to me," Murakami cut him off, lifting her hand. "If the only way out is a door whose value is [9], it is obvious that we cannot all get out of here; especially since there's nine of us, and five people at most can go through any door at the same time. And I fear what people can do to live. Whoever spoke to us was right – survival instinct is such a powerful thing. What would it take for a grown man or woman to take a card from a child and leave him here?" she asked, fear suddenly plain in her voice.

"You're thinking of Teruaki," Nagisa stated. His voice was calm, almost flat, but he was biting his lower lip.

Murakami nodded. "Yes."

"You're awfully attached to him. What is it about?" Gentarou asked. He couldn't wrap his mind around that: she was his teacher, after all, not his mother. Why should she care that much? Why should she care _at all_?

"He's like a son to me," was the immediate, clear reply. "I've been his teacher for years. I'm part of a special program; we offer private lessons for children with especially high IQ who are simply too fast for the others too keep up. I don't think his own parents even realize what a gift that child is. I was assigned to him three years ago, when he was accepted into the program. Regular school was doing nothing but holding him back, and…" she paused. "It wasn't a good place for him to be," was all she eventually said, her voice low.

"Trouble with his classmates, I assume," Gentarou muttered, scowling for a moment while thinking back of his own problems with other children back in elementary school – when his disability had not yet been diagnosed and thus everyone thought he was dim-witted or just plan odd. It wasn't hard to imagine that an especially clever child with odd quirks could have to face a fair amount of problems when thrown in a class full of uneducated _monkeys_.

Gentarou clenched his jaw, and forced himself to push the memory aside. "I see. Back to the subject at hand: you're right, we can't all get out of here and Teruaki is an especially easy target. So what do you plan on doing? Getting rid of us now so that we can't be a threat to him?"

"What?" Nagisa blurted out, apparently shocked by the idea. His eyes darted across the room as though to find a weapon, but Murakami spoke again, and he turned his attention back to her.

"No, not at all. I don't know what's going on or why we all are here, but what I do know is that Teruaki will not die here. I will not allow it. I may die here, but he _will_ make it out, or _so help me_," she added, and for a moment her voice was completely different, cold and poisonous and dangerous. Gentarou's own eyes darted across the room, and he took a mental note of the fact there was a vase, not too far from him, that he could use as a weapon should the need arise, by breaking it and taking a shard.

"Then what is it you want from us?" he asked slowly. Beside him, Nagisa seemed to be holding his breath.

She recollected, and smiled a sad sort of smile. "I want you to bring him outside with you."

"You… what?" Gentarou repeated, taken aback. "You want _us_ to…?"

"How old are you?"

"How is that-"

"Answer to me."

A pause. "I'm fourteen," Gentarou finally said slowly.

"Nagisa?"

"Thirteen. But-"

"Mars is sixteen," Murakami cut him off, her voice still quiet and even, "and Teruaki is just nine. I'm forty; everyone else aside from the four of you is at least in their thirties. Mercury was right – you're just children. And I cannot allow you to die. Not when I know you can open the last door and save yourselves."

A brief silence followed. Nagisa seemed too incredulous to speak, and Gentarou quickly calculated what their digital root would be. She was right, she truly was: the digital root of the four of them would be [9]. "And you would be willing to stay behind?" he asked quietly. Perhaps he was supposed to feel something about it, anything – she was pretty much saying she was willing to stay behind, _make_ other people stay behind and drown with them for their sake and Teruaki's – but he did not: all he could think was how very convenient that was for him.

He sure as hell didn't want to die, and not because of people he didn't even know, strangers, faceless _monkeys_.

Unaware of his thoughts, she nodded. "Yes. I'll try to speak to Pluto about this; he's number [9], and that won't change the digital root. He could come with you. No matter how adamant he is on not leaving anyone behind – he'll have to realize there if this game truly is serious, then there is no choice, and letting you out would be lesser of two evils. I promise I'll do my best to make sure you can be safe – if you just promise me you'll bring Teruaki with you."

There were a few more moments of silence. Gentarou turned to look at Nagisa: he was staring straight at him, as though waiting for him to choose. It looked like he wasn't _that_ bothered about him acting as the 'big boss' now.

"Yes," Gentarou finally said, his own voice reaching his ears as though from miles away. "We'll bring him with us. We'll need his key card in any case; no point in leaving him behind."

Murakami smiled at him. That smile would have perhaps meant something to him had he been able to see, truly _see_, the person who was smiling; but it was just a face no different from any other, so it didn't mean a thing – if not that he now his chances of living through that madness had increased.

"Thank you," she murmured.

Nagisa sighed. "Teruaki may not… agree with this plan," he said, his voice a little weak.

Her smile vanished, and she looked down. Some of her hair fell in front of her face, hiding it from view. In Gentarou's eyes, it wasn't much of a change. "He probably won't. That's why he must not know until it's time for you to go. And when that moment comes, ignore whatever he says or does. Drag him along if you have to. Force him. Just bring him out. He…" she paused and swallowed, then, "he'll understand, in time."

"There is a chance this is all some kind of stupid joke and no one has to die," Gentarou spoke up. He wasn't sure how much he could bring himself to believe that – chances were rather slim, to be honest – but last thing he needed was letting Nagisa's musings make Murakami change her mind; her plan was perfectly convenient for him as it was, after all. "Let's simply focus on making it to the end, then… then we'll see."

Murakami nodded and seemed about to say something, but any further discussion was thankfully cut short by a childish shrill. "Miss Murakami! I… I think I found s-something!"

That was enough for them to immediately move to the other room… to find nobody. Where in the world…?

"Teruaki?" Murakami called out.

"Hey, kid, where are you?"

"O-over here? Under the bed!"

Gentarou and Nagisa immediately crouched. It was pretty dark under the bed, but they could see the child huddled there. "What are you doing down here?" Gentarou asked.

"I found… it f-feels like a button," Teruaki explained. "I t-tried to press it, but n-nothing happened."

Gentarou reached under the bed to get the child out. "Let me see that," he muttered. He pulled him out and crawled beneath the bed himself, feeling the wall for the button Teruaki had told them about – and sure enough, there it was. He pushed it, but nothing happened. "Nothing," he said, crawling out of the bed. "It's either a dead end, or whatever it works for isn't in this room."

"Perhaps it's in the other," Murakami suggested. "There has to be a reason why two doors opened, and… Nagisa?" she called out. Gentarou looked up to see that the other boy was leaving the room in a hurry.

"Be right back," he yelled over his shoulder.

Gentarou blinked. "Any idea what he's up to?" he asked.

"Well, perhaps he has an idea where to find-"

"FOUND IT! YES! YOU KNOW WHO'S AMAZING? I AM!"

"… the key," Murakami finished with a weak chuckle. "He sure sounds pleased with himself."

The door, which had been left ajar, opened fully. Nagisa waved something in front of them, one hell of a huge smile splitting his very-much-anonymous face in two. "Bingo! It was in the drawer I couldn't open before. Bet it was the button to open it. It has the same symbol as on the lock and all. So, who's the man?"

The reaction he got probably wasn't what he had expected.

"He-hey, it was me to find the button!" Teruaki protested.

"Sure, but it was still me to find the key, so…"

Gentarou ignored their antics: he was just relieved to see that they did have a way out of those rooms after all. "Good," he said, reaching for the key. "Give me- what now?" he growled in annoyance when Nagisa clicked his tongue and stepped back, keeping the key out of his reach.

"Sorry, boss, but I open the door. _I_ found the key, remember?" he pointed out before turning and strolling out. Gentarou rolled his eyes before following him outside.

"Fine. Now unlock it."

"What, just like this, without even savoring the moment? Just shove it in? Wham, bam- fine, fine, I was just kidding. No need to look at me like that," Nagisa said quickly before fitting the key in the lock and turning it. There was a loud clack, that of door unlocking. "Well, phew. No red herring," was Nagisa's comment. He grasped the handles. "I'm going to open it, okay?"

Gentarou nodded, and saw Nagisa drawing in a deep breath before throwing the door open to reveal another hallway. They could go no other way, so they followed it to another large door, the only one they could open. And beyond that was…

…a kitchen. A large kitchen mostly made of polished metal, with dishes and pans still on the stove.

There was a moment of silence before Gentarou finally spoke first. "… what."

Nagisa gave a low whistle. "Well, isn't this anticlimactic."

"Not illogical, though," Murakami pointed out. "Passengers needed their meals, after all."

Well, Gentarou thought, that was true enough. "Too bad we have no time for snacks. We should start looking around," he muttered, finally stepping in. The first thing his eyes fell onto was a door on the other side, a card reader mounted on the side. "It would be too optimistic hoping our key cards will open it, wouldn't it?"

Nagisa shrugged. "Well, you don't know 'less you try, I guess," he said, holding out his hand.

Gentarou stared at it, not comprehending. "What?"

An impatient snort. "What do you think? Give me your key cards, and I'll see if-"

"_No_," Gentarou snapped, his eyes narrowing. Did he really think he'd hand over his key card – his ticket out of there, the one thing he knew he had to hold onto – to a stranger so easily?

"Why not? What is it?" Nagisa asked, sounding genuinely confused.

Gentarou crossed his arms. "And what if it works? How do you know you wouldn't just run off with our key cards and lock us in?" he said pointedly.

Nagisa's confusion faded, leaving anger behind. "What the hell? What makes you think I'd do that?" he protested. "I thought we were in this together."

_Thought we were in this together?_

For a few moments Gentarou could only stare at him – him, and that anonymous face he shared with every other human being in the world – then his shoulders shook and a chuckle escaped him. "In this together?" he repeated, and laughed. "Are you an idiot? I don't even _know_ you!"

A low growl left the other boy. "This doesn't mean I'm the kind of bastard who runs off and leave a woman, a child and an asshole behind to die," he snapped. "But yeah, I could make an exception for the asshole!"

"_Whatever_. If you really aren't going to try anything, why don't you give me _your_ card and let _me_ check?"

"Like hell! If you really thought I could just lock you in and leave, then who says _you_ wouldn't-"

"_Enough_," a feminine and somewhat exasperated voice spoke up, causing Nagisa to trail off and both of them to turn to Murakami. She had two cards in one hand – hers and Teruaki's no doubt – and was holding out the other hand. "If you can't trust each other, then please trust me. Let me give it a try. I won't leave by myself – not without Teruaki, and as you can see he's on the other side of the room."

Gentarou turned to see that, indeed, Teruaki was on the other side of the kitchen, trying to open the latch of what looked like a refrigerating room. Finally, he nodded: he still didn't like the idea of handing his card to anyone but himself, but if he had learned something about that woman, it was that she wouldn't go anywhere without that pathetic little runt.

"Fine," he finally said, his voice tight, and handed her his key card. Nagisa did the same, still glaring at him, but Gentarou pretended not to have noticed.

As they had expected, though, the door did not open. Murakami shook her head with a sigh and gave them their key cards back. "It looks like there is another key card we need to find. We should probably start looking, and-" she trailed off when the sound of a rusty door opening reached their ears. They turned to see that Teruaki had managed to open the latch of a small door on the wall and was now peering inside.

"I-it's a freezer," he said, and took a couple of steps in. "It's c-cold. It's still working. T-there is something written o-on the wa-"

_Clack_.

The loud clack echoed in the room only one instants before the freezer's door slammed shut with a deafening bang. Gentarou and Nagisa stared at it for a few moments, taken aback; Murakami was the first to recover.

"Teruaki!" she cried out, and one moment later she was at the door, trying with all her might to open it, but it was clear her efforts were useless: the thick door would not budge.

"Fuck," Gentarou muttered, quickly stepping to the door. Both him and Nagisa grabbed the handle and tried to pull, but no avail: the door was sealed shut.

"Shit!" Nagisa growled. Behind the door, the child seemed close to a panic attack.

"Get me out of here!" was all he could shriek, sounding everything like he was close to sobbing. "Please, I want out! Please! Get me out of here! Miss Murakami! Someone! Help!"

Murakami was deathly pale, but she could find it in herself to keep her voice firm. "Teruaki, calm down," she called out sharply, and the panicked blabbering from the other side ceased almost instantly. "You're going to be alright. We'll get you out of there. Now breathe deeply, and don't panic."

For a few moments there was no answer.

"Teruaki?"

"I-it's so c-cold in here," he sobbed. "I d-don't want to die!"

"You won't die," Murakami said, and it sounded everything like an order. "I won't let you, I promise. Calm down. Breathe and think. Look around. What do you see in there? You were saying there was something written on the wall. What is it?"

"W-well…" the child's voice grew a little more distant, as though he had stepped away from the door to get closer to the wall. "There is a C, then I, then F, A-" he began, but then his voice broke all at once, and for a few moments there was only silence.

"Teruaki, what's going on?" Murakami called out. "Did something happen? Teru-"

The child screamed.

It was a scream unlike any other Gentarou had ever heard before that day, a scream he would never hear again for many years, until the moment Teruaki's time would truly be up, and by his own hand. It was the mindless, wordless scream of someone who's forever leaving a part of their sanity behind. What on Earth was happening in there?

"Teruaki? TERUAKI!" Murakami cried out, and this time panic was leaking in her own voice, to the point it was hard to even recognize it. But Teruaki did, he had to, for he immediately ran back to the door and began pounding it, certainly thinking that he had to get out and he would be safe: in his mind, safety lay with his teacher.

"Get me out! GET ME OUT!" he screamed, still hitting the door. "It's dead! I don't want to die! I don't want to die!"

"Dead?" Gentarou repeated, wondering if he had heard well; but he certainly had, for both Nagisa and Murakami were now terribly pale. "Who's dead? Teruaki? Teruaki!" he called out, hitting the door with his fist, but the boy seemed too terrified to answer coherently.

"Please please _please_, let me out!" he was sobbing. "Someone died here and I don't want to die, I don't want to die! Please, let me out! Miss Murakami, please, _please…_!"

The woman shut her eyes and drew in a trembling breath – then she spoke again, and her voice was sharp, and perfectly firm. "Periodic table of elements," she said aloud.

Gentarou and Nagisa exchanged a glance.

"…what?" Nagisa asked, and Gentarou could only shake his head in equal confusion. Teruaki had to be taken aback, too, for his screams and pleas ceased at once.

"W-what?"

"I want you to repeat it. Loud, so that I can hear you. And then again backwards. Starting now."

Gentarou blinked in surprise when the child actually began to repeat aloud the periodic table of elements, especially since his voice actually seemed to be getting calmer and calmer as he went on; if it was enough to calm the kid down, then he sure wasn't going to protest.

"…carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, fluorine, neon, sodium…"

It was clear the kid wouldn't get much done until he was done telling the damn table and had calmed down enough to speak normally, so he and Nagisa took advantage of those moments to take a look around the kitchen. Gentarou found nothing out of the ordinary, but Nagisa did find something… odd.

"Here, take a look at these," he said, showing him what he had found – several tins of canned food on the counter, each of them with a number written on it with red paint. It was several tins, all the same shape and size, but they had different weight and were numbered rather oddly: there was one with a [0] written on it, two with a [1], then one with [2] and another with [3] – but the other tins weren't numbered in any particular order, their numbers randomly going from [5] to [144] without any apparent connection. Gentarou could see no pattern.

"There's something odd with this shelf, too," Nagisa added, this time looking at the shelf on their right. "Look – there are indentations."

And indeed, there were nine circular indentations on the shelf – the right size for the tins to fit. "I take it we have to put them here," Gentarou said. "The question is, in what order? And which ones?" he asked aloud.

Nagisa looked down at the numbered tins again. "The numbers must mean something. There's got to be a pattern here, but beats me what it is. Maybe we should ask- what is she doing?"

Gentarou turned to see that she had pulled out a piece of paper out of her pocket – the one where rules were written, most likely – and was writing down something on the back of it with a pencil she had produced from hell knew where. She lifted her eyes from the paper and gestured for them to come closer before knocking on the freezer's door just once.

"Alright, I've got it. I'm sure it will help us get you out of there. Just wait for a minute, sweetheart – you'll be fine. Close your eyes, keep moving and do not panic. Stay calm. We're going to get you out in no time. I promise."

"A-alright," Teruaki's muffled voice same from inside.

"What is it? Is there really a… a dead body in there?" Nagisa asked, lowering his voice.

A sigh. "Yes, apparently there is. The freezer must be some kind of trap, but there must also be a way out," Murakami said. "There _must_ be."

Gentarou looked at letters she had written on the piece of paper – C-I-F-A-N-O-C-I-B.

"What does that stand for?"

The woman shook her head. "I don't know. But I'm certain there is a meaning to it: we just have to find out what it is," she added, passing the piece of paper to Gentarou and Nagisa. "Does it mean anything to you?"

Gentarou observed the letters for a few moments. "It may be an acronym… no, too long, it doesn't make sense. It just… doesn't mean anything," he said with a frustrated sigh. "It's not even a _word_."

"Well, not in this order."

"What?" Gentarou blinked and looked back at Nagisa. "Do you know what it is?"

The other boy shrugged. "Well, not _really_, but I've got a hunch. What if it's an anagram?"

The thought hadn't occurred to Gentarou at all, but he had to admit it _did_ make sense. "It could be!" he exclaimed, then he reached to knock on the freezer's door. "Hey, boy genius, do you hear me?"

"Y-yes…"

"The letters you have there on the wall are probably some word's anagram. Is there anything they remind you of?"

"Uh…" Teruaki's voice sounded hesitant, but then again it always did. "M-maybe… let me think…"

There were a couple of minutes of speculation, each of them trying to rearrange words in a way that made sense; Murakami, certainly worried out of her mind by the fact Teruaki was trapped into a freezer with a corpse, was the most frantic out of the three of them in trying to figure out an answer. In the end, however, it wasn't her to figure out the answer – it was Teruaki.

"I-I think I've got it!" he cried out from inside the freezer, causing all speculation to cease and all eyes to turn to the freezer's door. "I-it's Fibonacci!"

For a moment Gentarou thought he hadn't hear well, for the word the child uttered told him absolutely nothing – nor it meant anything to Nagisa, at least judging from the way he had just tilted his head on one side – but a moment later it was Murakami to confirm that the words did, indeed, mean _something_.

"You're right!" she exclaimed, sounding both relieved and extremely proud. "It is an anagram for Fibonacci!"

"Uh… I hate to spoil the party, but what _is_ a Fibonacci?" Nagisa asked, lifting his hand as though in school.

Murakami chuckled. "It's a name – the name of a mathematician. He gave his name to a peculiar series of numbers, which was the answer to a puzzle he came up with."

"A puzzle?"

"Yes. He considered the growth of a biologically unrealistic rabbit population, assuming that a newly born pair of rabbits, one male, one female, are put in a field; that rabbits are able to mate at the age of one month so that at the end of its second month a female can produce another pair of rabbits; that rabbits never die and a mating pair always produces one new pair, one male and one female, every month from the second month on. The puzzle that Fibonacci posed was: how many pairs will there be in one year?"

Gentarou and Nagisa exchanged a glance.

"Why are we talking about rabbits' reproduction now?" Gentarou asked, deadpanned.

"Don't ask me. I'm stuck wondering what the man had been smoking," Nagisa replied with a shrug.

"That's what the Fibonacci series is about!" Teruaki quipped in from behind the door, and Gentarou was surprised to realize he wasn't even stuttering: he sounded almost excited, like kids usually sound like while talking about a cartoon they love or they favorite candy. "It's the solution to the puzzle. It's a series of numbers in which the first two ones are [0] and [1], and each subsequent number is the sum of the previous two. So at the end of this or that month, the number of pairs of rabbits is equal to the number of new pairs plus the number of pairs alive last month. So, after twelve months, the number of rabbits would be-"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down now, rabbit kid," Nagisa laughed. "You're stuck in a freezer, remember? I think we can postpone the lecture on rabbits for when your ass won't be freezing off."

"…oh. Heh. R-right," the boy muttered, now sounding somewhat sheepish. Gentarou could have been amused by that hadn't his mind been occupied with something else – of the tins he and Nagisa had seen earlier, and of the numbers on them.

"I think I know what we have to do now," he said slowly.

Nagisa blinked. "What we have to- oh. Oh, right! The tins!"

"Exactly," Gentarou said, quickly walking up to the counter and the shelf with the indentation.

"Tins? What tins?" Murakami was asking, still standing by the freezer's door.

"These," was the reply as Gentarou reached the counter and began sorting out the tins. "Each has a number and we didn't know what to make of it, but now…"

There were a few moments of silence as he began to put the tins in the indentations according to the Fibonacci series – each number as result of the sum of the previous two: [0], [1], [1], [2], [3], [5], [8], [13]…

"… and [21]," Nagisa said, handing him the ninth tin. "Let's see if it actually works for something."

Gentatou nodded. "One way to find out," he muttered, and put the last tin inside the indentation.

Two things happened almost in the same moment: the shelf lowered all of a sudden, and the loud clack of a mechanism being released was heard; and, only a second later, a door slammed open and Teruaki bolted out of the freezer like a tightly coiled spring, straight at Murakami and in her arms. He was shaking like a newborn deer in her arms, either from the cold he still felt or from the shock of being locked in a freezer with a dead body, if there _truly_ was one, and she seemed to be doing her best to both warm him up and calm him down, rubbing his back and arms while murmuring something to him in the process.

"Don't go off ahead like that ever again," Gentarou heard her saying shakily finally releasing him, and the child said something, but he didn't pay any heed to whatever he replied: he was gesturing for Nagisa to hold the door open before stepping in the freezer, his eyes fixed in the corner. Right there, among crates and frozen food supplies, there really was something that looked everything like a human body.

"Wait, are you really going in?" Nagisa asked, sounding rather worried.

"Just taking a look. Just make sure that door stays open."

"Oh. Oh, shit. Is that really…?"

"Looks like it. Keep that door open," Gentarou repeated before taking another step in the freezer. It was pretty damn cold in there, and he wondered how Teruaki had managed to resist wearing shorts and short sleeves. He pulled up his turtleneck shirt to cover some more skin and approached the body.

It seemed to belong to a man, at least judging by the built, and it was frozen stiff. It sat in the corner, knees up to the chest as though the man had tried to keep himself warm as long as possible. Gentarou wondered when he had died, and if there were other people in there when it had happened, if he had died hoping to the rescued and had been left behind instead. Or had the others who had been with him never made it out, either? But if so, why was only that one body there? What if-

That course of thoughts was abruptly interrupted when Gentarou's gaze fell on the corpse's hand – there was something in it, something he had died holding onto.

A blue key card.

Gentarou's eyes widened. There it was, their way out of that accursed room – and it was enough for him to forget he was staring at a dead body. He didn't care, he didn't care about anything but the fact he had to take that card. He crouched down and immediately tried to pry it from the corpse… except that he couldn't: the fingers were frozen stiff around the card, and there was no way to pull it out. "Shit," he growled.

"Gentarou, what… what the hell are you doing?" Nagisa's somewhat strained voice reached him. He was still standing in the doorway, making sure the door wouldn't close again, and had his eyes fixed on him as he crouched over the corpse in the corner.

"The key card. The one we need to get out of here – he has it," Gentarou explained, standing up once more. "But I can't manage to take it. His fingers are frozen around it. I'll need to… to break them, or something. Is there anything I can use there? Something heavy?"

"Break… what? _What?_ Wait a moment! You can't just go and-"

"If you can think of any _other_ way to get out only key out of here, let me know!" Gentarou snapped, causing him to recoil. There was a brief, heavy silence.

"Fine. _Fine_," Nagisa finally muttered through clenched teeth before he reached to pull a stool in front of the door to keep it open and went looking around the kitchen. Gentarou exited the freezer – it was damn cold in there, so he could as well stay out of it as long as it took to find something they could use to get the card – and noticed that Murakami hadn't yet let go of Teruaki. She murmured something to him, but he thought nothing of it: she was probably just reassuring that wreck of a kid; what else could that be about?

Then she stood, gently pushing the boy away from the entrance of the freezer before facing him. "What about… what about the corpse?" she asked.

"It looks like we're not the first ones to be put through this madness," Gentarou said grimly. "There really is a corpse in there. It's frozen stiff, and there is a key card in its hand. We have to break it off somehow. I see no other way to take it, and we must get out of here quickly," he replied.

He didn't feel much of anything about it; of course it wasn't a pleasant task, but he got the feeling he was expected to be more upset about it than he could bring himself to be. After all, that was the corpse of a complete stranger who could have been dead for a long time: wouldn't be much different than breaking off a piece of frozen steak, he supposed. What lay in there was nothing but a limp of bones and meat.

A sigh. "I see. God, if I think that Teruaki could have ended the same way…" her voice faded, and Gentarou said nothing. He didn't much care for whatever could have happened to the kid, though he was glad they could open the door: if they didn't, the key card would have stayed inside and he would have never made it out. For a moment he almost wondered about the fate of whoever had been in that room along with the man who had died in the freezer, but that course of thought was interrupted right away by Nagisa's voice.

"How about this?" he called out, holding up what he had found – a large, wooden, heavy-looking rolling pin. He walked up to them and handed it to Gentarou, who took it and nodded.

"It should do," he said, and turned to walk back in the freezer. This time, Nagisa followed him and took a look at both the corpse and the card.

"You know… breaking the fingers may not be the best idea."

"Why not?"

"Well, we could end up breaking the card as well. That's frozen, too, and might be frail. And if we break it…" he left the rest of the sentence hanging, but what he meant was pretty clear. Gentarou frowned. He had to admit, Nagisa had a point: one wrong blow, and they could wave goodbye their only way out of the room.

"Good point," he admitted, looking down at the corpse. His eyes focused on the hand, on the way it jutted out. Maybe… "Maybe I can break it off," he said. "The hand, I mean. That way we could get it out of the freezer and try to get the card out. We could try melting the ice. The water tap and stove work, and I saw some pots – we'd melt it quickly enough with some warm water."

Nagisa shuddered, and Gentarou was pretty sure it wasn't just because of the cold, but when he spoke again his voice was surprisingly firm. "Yes, makes sense," he said, taking a step back. "Careful not to hit the card."

Gentarou nodded and shifted a little, grasping the rolling pin with both hands and lifting it over his head. He stayed still for a few moments, his eyes fixed on the wrist – there was where he had to strike – then finally brought the pin down with all his strength.

_Crack_.

_Thump_.

"Shit, oh, _shit_," Gentarou heard Nagisa groaning behind him, then he heard him staggering backwards. He barely even took notice, though: for a few moments, all he could do was staring at the severed hand on the floor, the card still lodged in it. It truly was damn hard and frozen solid: even the blood was just ice. For a moment before he pulled down his sleeve on his hand and reached to take it he wondered how long the body had been there, but he was quick to push the question in the back of his mind: their own time was limited, after all, and they had already wasted enough of it.

He turned to leave the freezer, and noticed that Nagisa was holding a hand in front of his mouth, eyes tightly shut. On a whim, Gentarou lifted the severed hand. "Do you need a hand?"

Nagisa's eyes opened, and he stared back at him with obvious disbelief, his hand still over his mouth. "_What_?"

Suddenly, that idea for a joke didn't seem as good as it had one moment before. "Well, I simply asked… since you… why, it was a joke, of course."

Nagisa stared for a few other moments, then gave another groan. "You know what? You've got guts and all, I'll give you that – but you should be _forbidden_ to make jokes," he muttered, stomping out of the freezer.

Gentarou stared at the hand for a couple of moments. "I thought it was a good one," he muttered to no one in particular before following him back to the kitchen. It didn't occur to him that wrapping the severed hand into a cloth or something like that would have been a good idea until he heard a Teruaki whimpering at the sight, immediately turning to burrow his face in Miss Murakami's shirt.

… oh well, Gentarou thought, he had seen the whole corpse already anyway. He walked to the sink and put the hand in it, and was relieved to see that there was a hot water tap – if it worked, they wouldn't have to go through the trouble of heating the water on the stove. He turned the tap, and water came out; it wasn't precisely hot, but it was at least warm and it should be enough to make it possible to pry the card from the those dead, stiff fingers.

Behind him, Murakami turned to make sure Teruaki wouldn't approach. "Stay here," she said, reaching to ruffle his hair. The boy looked in their direction, swallowing nervous, but nodded at his teacher and stayed on the other side of the kitchen while she approached to the sink. She looked in silence as the warm water began melting some of the ice.

"You know, I can't believe we're doing this," Nagisa spoke after a few minutes of silence, only broken by the sound of running water. "I'll never complain about dissecting frogs again. Oh, and remember when I said this was anticlimactic? I take it back. Shit happens in kitchens, too. I don't want to see another one ever."

Gentarou realized he had kept his own hands balled into tight fists without even realizing it. He forced himself to relax. "Me neither," he heard himself saying, then reached to take the only piece of cutlery that could be found in the kitchen – a butter knife. Shame it was so dull, he mused: having an actual knife with him could have helped should things get ugly later on. But right now he had more urgent matters to concern himself with – he had to get the card, because without that there would be no getting out of there and thus there would be no _later_ for him.

And besides, he told himself as he reached to force the fingers loose with the help of the butter knife, since he had come as far as breaking off a corpse's hand, it wouldn't hurt going just a little further and taking the damn key card. Making himself touch the hand again now that it was no longer completely frozen wasn't as unsettling as he supposed it should have been; perhaps the fact his way of thinking has always been a rather analytical and practical one helped keeping any unnecessary and bothersome feelings away. He had to take the card: nothing else mattered, nothing at all.

And in the end, taking it was nowhere as hard as he had expected: with the butter knife to use as an edge, it took him only a few minutes to pry the fingers open just enough to slide the key card out of that grasp.

"Got it!" he exclaimed, holding up the card. It was still cold to the touch, but the ice was gone.

His exclamation was greeted with a loud sigh of relief from both Nagisa and Murakami. Gentarou took a good look at the key card. "There is a symbol on this one, too…"

"It's the symbol for Saturn," Murakami said. "It's the same one on the card reader. It should open the door."

"Damn right it should open it," Gentarou almost growled. Now that would have been one sick joke, if the key didn't even open the door!"

But it did: the moment it was passed through he card reader there was a beeping sound, and the small light on top of it went from red to green. The door was open.

"Let's get the hell out of here," Nagisa said, and no one had anything at all against the suggestion: the four of them were out in mere moments. Gentarou was the last to leave, letting the door shut behind himself without sparing one more thought to the corpse they were leaving behind. Whoever that man was, he was dead – but _he_ was alive and intended for things to stay that way, and it was all that mattered.


	4. First Victim

Thinking back later on – much later on – Gentarou would have wondered how they had managed not to fall and break their neck as they ran down the stairs they found almost as soon as they left the kitchen. It didn't take long to reach the deck below, though, and while the stairs continued further down they didn't even try to go any further: they already knew that the D deck was underwater, and since they were coming down from the B deck, that had to be the C one – so it was as far as they could go.

Not that they had nowhere to go: in front of them stretched a long, long hallway with plenty of rooms on both sides. "I take it we're going to have to try plenty of doors. Again," Nagisa grumbled.

Gentarou sighed. "Looks like it. Alright, two on each side. Let's sta-" he began, but trailed off as something reached his ears – voices. "Wait. Are those…?"

Murakami nodded. "It must be them," she muttered, and that was all that needed to be said: the next moment they were all running through the hallway, ignoring any doors they saw only to follow the sound of their voices. They were getting closer and closer, and Gentarou could almost make out their words – but where…?

He abruptly stopped running when he reached a much larger door than the others they had ran past: a double door, slightly ajar… and the voices were coming right from it.

"… so what now?"

"…can't go through like this…"

"…need the others..:"

Nagisa, who skidded to a halt just on time not to collide with him, laughed. "Here they are," he exclaimed, immediately walking up to the door and opening it fully in a rather theatrical fashion. "Hey guys! Did you… miss… _what_?"

Gentarou could immediately see the reason of Nagisa's puzzlement: the others were there, yes, all five of them… but the room itself was most definitely something he had not expected, and Gentarou had thought nothing could surprise him anymore.

It was a huge room, far larger than the others he had been into, and it was filled with beds. Well, 'beds' was perhaps a too generous term; they were more like cots, dozens and dozens of cots that took over most of the room.

"It looks like a… a hospital, or something like that," Gentarou murmured. But while hospitals had never made him uncomfortable – and he had seen plenty of those until one especially observant doctor had finally been able to tell what was wrong with him, which part of his brain wasn't working as it should, and give a _name_ to his problem – that place most certainly did. The atmosphere felt… oppressing. And he wasn't the only one to feel it, either: Teruaki had definitely moved closer to Murakami, who was now reaching to hold his hand.

"Pretty creepy, isn't it?" Mars asked, her voice trembling a little. Most of the relief they may have felt in seeing each other again – after all, Gentarou mused, if they didn't meet up again they would have likely had no way to get out – seemed to have faded for the most part; Nitro looked especially grim, eyeing his surroundings while keeping his arms tightly folded to his chest, while Mercury seemed to be unable to tear his eyes off the three numbered doors – [7], [3] and [8] a few feet from them. There was another door with no number on it, but it wasn't budging despite Pluto's efforts to open it.

On the other hand, Mercury and Venus made a brave attempt at a smile.

"Good to see you again. We were starting to get worried," Mercury said. "Are you alright?"

Gentarou and Nagisa exchanged a glance, then turned to Miss Murakami. She stood a little behind them, and Teruaki was holding her hand tightly. She smiled back at Mercury. "We had a little setback when Teruaki almost got himself locked into a freezer, but we made it out just fine," she said calmly.

So, it looked like she wasn't up to tell them about the dead body. Maybe she did not mean to scare them or had some other reason for that, but either way it was fine with Gentarou: it would spare them the necessity of telling an unpleasant tale.

Pluto, who had given up with the door and rejoined them, blinked. "A freezer?"

"We ended up in a kitchen," Nagisa explained. "Teruaki got stuck in the freezer for a bit."

"Aww, you must have been so scared," Mars cooed, looking down at Teruaki. She seemed to have taken a shine on that pathetic kid, Gentarou thought for just a moment before wondering if they had seen more than what they were letting by, just as they were avoiding mentioning the trap and the dead body. Or maybe some doors had traps while others had none?

"Y-yes. I m-mean, no. N-not too much," Teruaki was replying, trying – and failing pretty miserably – to sound brave. Mars, however, pretended to fall from it.

"Such a brave little boy," she said with a chuckle, reaching down to ruffle the child's hair. Gentarou had enough time to notice the 'brave little boy' was blushing violently before he heard Nagisa speaking.

"What about you? Where have you been?"

Pluto shrugged. "We went through a first-class cabin – where we learned that Mercury is the next Ray Charles – and then a casino, where Venus beat the slot machine in five seconds flat. I'm sure it takes years of practice to do that," Pluto said, winking at Venus, and she sighed a little dramatically at his jab.

"He's been try to talk me into going in Vegas with him once we're out of here."

"We could become rich, I tell you. Rich," Pluto pointed out. "Think about it."

That sure got Mars' attention. "Can I come with you? Please?" she asked hopefully.

Mercury shook his head at her. "Not a chance. You're a minor," he reminded her.

"But they're younger than I am!" she protested, turning to glance at Gentarou, Nagisa and Teruaki.

"_They_ didn't ask to come gambling in Vegas," Mercury pointed out patiently.

That was enough for Gentarou to decide he didn't have enough patience for their antics. "Actually, I'd be content with just getting out of this ship," he said a little coldly.

Nitro, who had stayed silent all the time, seemed to share his thoughts. "The kid is right. We have little time as it is, so no point in wasting it," he snorted, gesturing to the three doors on the other side of the room. "We've got three this time. Gotta pick teams and all that."

Pluto nodded. "True enough. We'll talk about money another time, then," he said with a sigh before walking closer to the doors, gesturing for the other to follow. "Very well," he spoke again once they were all standing in front of the doors. "I suppose our Teruaki here wants to go through the same door as Miss Murakami," he said, smiling down at the child.

Teruaki, whose hand was still firmly grasping his teacher's, immediately nodded. "Y-yes. P-please."

"Very well. Let's see…"

There were a couple of minutes of silence as they tried to figure out what teams could allow them to go through the doors while allowing that damn kid to go through the same door as his beloved teacher. In the end, it was Nitro to speak. "Okay, hear this out. If Gentarou, Mars and I could go through door [7] while Mercury, Venus and Pluto go through door [3]…"

"… then Murakami, Teruaki and I could go through door [8] together," Nagisa finished for him. "Sounds good to me."

"It is a good solution," Mercury agreed. "Also, I suppose that once we're through each room we'll once again meet somewhere else on the-"

_Clack_.

Gentarou's mind didn't even have the time to register the sound that reached his ears before the lights went out and everything was pitch black. "Hey, what the…?"

"What happened?"

"Hell if I know. Isn't there a switch or something?"

In the moments of confusion that followed, with all of them walking around blindly and speaking at the same time, Gentarou bumped against someone. He staggered back for a moment, and bumped on someone else; they barely avoided falling in a heap on the floor.

"Who's that?" Nagisa's voice reached him, not too far from his right ear.

"Gentarou," he replied, steadying himself, and was about to add something, but then a sudden snapping noise reached his ears in the dark and through the voices, not far from them. The sound of something dropping on the floor followed. "What was that?" he asked, suddenly alarmed. He blindly stepped in the noise's direction.

"I have no ide-" Nagisa began, but the next instant the lights were back, and he fell quiet – all of them did. Venus, who had wandered further than all of them, spoke from the other side of the room. "What the…?" she began… and then fell as quiet as all of them. Gentarou didn't even hear her question: he could only stare ahead, his mind refusing to process what his eyes were seeing.

Before the lights went out Teruaki was standing next to Murakami, his hand holding on hers. And he still stood there, as though petrified on the spot, empty hand still lifted and eyes wide behind thick lenses – but he was alone, and on the ground, only a few feet from him…

Another moment passed in complete silence before any of them spoke or moved; Gentarou himself couldn't even think for a few instants. His eyes went from the body lying on the ground to Teruaki's still lifted hand, and for a moment he could almost _see_ the moment Murakami's hand had been yanked away from his grasp, he could almost-

"Shit," Gentarou heard someone uttering somewhere on his left, and a moment later Nagisa was stepping forward to grab the child, to pull him away as though putting some distance between him and the body could do anything. Teruaki let himself be pulled away with no resistance, and without a noise; his arm fell limply on his side, and that was the only movement he did. He simply did not react to anything: he stared ahead with blank eyes, mouth slightly agape – he seemed to be barely even breathing.

"Oh God. Oh my God," Mercury managed to utter, his skin ashen. "Is… is she…?"

His voice faded, and no one answered to his question. There was no need to: Murakami clearly was dead. She lay on her back, facing the ceiling with still open eyes, her neck bent in an unnatural position over her left shoulder; no medicine degree was needed to tell it was broken.

The silence was broken by a strangled noise coming from Mars, not a real scream as much as a cry of denial. She took a step back and covered her face with her hands, desperately shaking her head. "No!" she choked out, nails sinking in the skin of her forehead. "No, no, no, no, _no_…!"

Venus seemed to break out of her trance and took a step towards her, probably wanting to comfort her, but she never reached her: one moment later Mars had torn her hands away from her face and was staring at Teruaki. "_Why?_" she shrieked. "Why did you do it?"

Teruaki looked back at her with empty eyes, as though not comprehending her words… and to be honest, for a moment Gentarou couldn't either: it was just too absurd to be true.

"Mars, what are you _saying_?" Pluto spoke up. "Good God, you can't be seriously suggesting-"

"He was with her, and now she's _dead_!" Mars cried out, a clear edge of hysteria in her voice.

That cry – or maybe it was the word 'dead' – seemed to snap Teruaki out of his trance. He opened and closed his mouth as though trying to speak.

"I-I… I…" he tried, but his voice failed him immediately, and he began shaking so violently that for a moment Gentarou thought he could be about to have a seizure. "I…"

Whatever he may have tried to say next was covered by Nagisa's snort. "You can't be serious!" he snapped, causing the child to recoil. "He's just a kid! He's not even tall enough to reach an adult's neck, let alone strong enough to break it! There's no way he could have done it!"

"He's right," Venus backed him up. "Honey, please, be reasonable…"

"But… but…" Mars looked around with wide eyes. She seemed lost, and confused, and terrified, but all Gentarou could feel right now was annoyance. How could she be so _stupid_?

"You're ridiculous," he said dryly. "Care to explain how you think a nine year old could have broken a grown woman's neck? He may be smart, but you don't snap one's neck bone by being good at math."

That seemed to finally get the message through, and Mars swallowed before looking down. "I… you're right, I… I lost control. I'm sorry," she choked out, then looked up from the floor and to Teruaki. "I'm sorry," she repeated, but he was not looking and perhaps not even listening: he was keeping his face buried in Nagisa's shirt. He was shaking, but not crying; he seemed to be beyond tears.

"It's alright," Mercury said quietly, awkwardly reaching to put her arms around Mars' shuddering frame. "It's understandable. I mean, we're all rather shaken, and-"

"Not all of us, no."

Nitro's gruff voice caused most of them to wince: he had said nothing until that moment, and they had forgotten he was even there. But now he sure had their full attention, Gentarou mused.

Pluto looked at Murakami's dead body once more before turning to him. "So, you're saying…?"

"Of course I am. What do you think? There is just us in this room. Light goes out, one of us is killed. Neck snapped like a twig. It can only have been one of us," Nitro said quietly.

There was a long, heavy silence as they all stared uncomfortably at each other. Gentarou turned to glance at Murakami's still body. What Nitro had said was true: the killer had to be one of them. The thought didn't upset him, not really: he had known from the moment they had read the rules that there was a very real risk they could turn against each other. He had expected it to happen, even. It was a shame it had to happen to Murakami, though: she truly seemed intentioned to make sure the youngest participants, himself included, would make it out – so with her death he had lost a valuable ally.

For one single moment, Gentarou Hongou was remotely aware of the fact something was off, that he wasn't feeling as he was _supposed_ to feel, wasn't thinking what he was _supposed_ to think in regards to the death of a—

_monkey_

—human being, but the thought was gone from his mind just as quickly. There were other things he should concern himself about… namely, the fact one of them was ready to kill, and already struck.

He sure as hell wasn't planning on being next.

"Gentarou."

Mercury's voice snapped him from his thoughts. Gentarou turned to glance back at them, and he was taken aback to realize everyone was looking at him. A cold shiver went up his spine: that wasn't looking good. At all. "What? What is it?" he asked, instinctively turning to his right, where Nagisa and Teruaki were. Teruaki seemed once again unresponsive, and Nagisa, who was keeping an arm around his shoulders, was looking back at the others with a confused frown on his face.

It was Venus to speak first. "Well, aside from Teruaki, you _were_ the closest person to her when the lights turned on, and…"

"No _way_!" Nagisa spoke up before Gentarou could, causing Teruaki to recoil and snap out of his trance. "Gentarou was beside me all the time!"

Pluto looked back at him. "All the time?" he asked, calmly.

Nagisa paused for a moment, biting his lower lip. "Not _all_ the time," he finally said reluctantly. "But we bumped in each other almost immediately, and then we stayed close by. I would have noticed if he left. He was with me when we heard the snap – we were _talking_, so-"

"And how do we know you're not covering for him?" Nitro cut him off. "What if you're in this together?"

Gentarou ground his teeth. Not only he had just lost an ally in that madness, but now he was also being accused of having killed her and he couldn't even tell that he would have had nothing to gain and everything to lose from her death without exposing the fact he was planning on escaping from that place leaving most of them behind. It was so damn frustrating… and worrying. _Very_ worrying.

"Listen, I-" he began, only to train off when he felt someone grabbing his vest and pulling weakly at it. He turned to see Teruaki looking up at him.

"P-please, tell me you d-didn't," he almost begged, his voice little more than a pitiful whimper. Gentarou drew in a deep breath and shook his head.

"No, of course I didn't," he said quietly, then, "do you believe me?"

Teruaki looked down and nodded once, saying nothing more. A weak chuckle came from Nagisa. "That makes two of us," he said, then glared at the others. "Listen, it could have been anyone, okay? We moved around a lot after the lights went out. All of us. Before and _after_ we heard that snap – whoever killed her had all the time needed to move away from the body. Speaking of which, why would Gentarou or I have stayed nearby if we really were responsible? The most reasonable thing to do would have been moving the _hell_ away before lights could come back on, don't you think?" he asked somewhat challengingly, and one after another the others looked away.

"He has a point," Venus said with a sigh. "I know it doesn't make me look all that good since I was the one farther away when the lights came back on, but I'm rather sure I wouldn't have lingered nearby if I killed anyone. I would have put some distance between myself and the body should the lights come back on."

It didn't escape Gentarou how none of them wondered _why_ she had been killed. It was enough to make it clear that all of them were just as aware as himself that not all of them could make it out, that some of them would be left behind… and that none of them wanted to be among the ones who stayed.

In that moment Gentarou knew, with chilling certainty, that while Murakami had been the first victim she wasn't to be the last

Apparently unaware of his thoughts, Pluto reached up to scratch his chin. "It is possible that whoever killed her didn't know the light would turn back on. I mean, the sudden blackout caught us all by surprise. Unless, of course…" he paused and turned to Nitro. "Is that what you think? That the blackout was planned?"

A nod. "Yeah. I mean, it could be a technical glitch or something, but… don't know. Whoever put this whole thing together sure had to spend plenty of time putting it together, so it seems weird that something like a power failure would happen. Also, don't you think it was a little convenient? And how would whoever killed her know that the lights would stay off for enough time to break one's neck?"

Venus paled. "So you think that whoever did… this _knew_ they would have enough time?"

Nitro nodded once more. "I think so. I also think they knew the blackout would happen and chose a victim beforehand, because come on, there was so much confusion and yet they sure moved quickly for the kill. They knew she wouldn't have moved around to stay near the kid. Maybe that's why they picked-"

He was cut off by a sudden sob. Gentarou turned to see that Teruaki's whole frame was shuddering, violent sobs tearing the breath from his lungs.

"I d-didn't m-mean to… I'm s-sorry," he choked out, and for one absurd moment Gentarou almost thought he was confessing to killing Murakami. Then he realized, _truly_ realized, what Nitro had just said – that the fact she'd want to stay close to the child had likely been the reason why she had been picked by her killer in the dark – and he knew what Teruaki was thinking: hadn't it been for him, perhaps Murakami wouldn't have been the one to be targeted in the first place. Nitro seemed to realize that, too, for he bit his lower lip.

"_Oh_. Oh, shit. Look, kid I didn't mean it like that, I…" he tried, but his voice faded and he dropped his shoulders helplessly. He looked over at Venus, who came forward and crouched in front of the sobbing kid.

"No, Teruaki, no, sweetheart," she murmured, reaching to take off his glasses with one hand and dry his eyes with her sleeve. "You don't have to be. It was not your fault. You did nothing wrong."

The child let out another hiccupping sob, giving no sign of having heard her at all. Nagisa reached to take Teruaki's glasses from Venus' hand and gave her a small smile. "Let me try to speak to him for a minute, okay?" he said before putting a hand on the child's shoulder and leading him away. Gentarou followed them with his gaze just enough to see Nagisa making the boy sit on one of the cots before sitting next to him and start talking, his voice low enough not to be heard by anyone else. He turned his attention back to the others.

"So," he said quietly, "you think one of us knows more of this… _game_ than they should. Is that right?"

Nitro tore his gaze away from Teruaki and Nagisa and looked back at him. "Yeah, that's what I'm saying."

"This means that one of us could be the one behind all this," Mercury murmured.

"Given that there is just one person behind this. It seems unlikely to me," Venus pointed out.

Pluto frowned. "This would mean that more than one of us is involved," he commented, then, "I'd say we can safely exclude Murakami, as well as Teruaki, Nagisa, Gentarou and Mars," he muttered.

Mars, who had been silent the whole time, looked up at him upon hearing her code name. "What…?"

"As Mercury pointed out earlier, the four of you are just children," he said gently. "And no matter how absurd this situation may be – you truly are too young to be involved into some insane plot to kidnap people. Not to mention that, to be honest, I don't think any of you would be strong enough to break a grown woman's neck without at least some difficulty. And whoever killed her did so swiftly. Perhaps it's not impossible for one of you to have done it, but… I do think it's unlikely."

"That would only leave you, me, Mercury and Nitro," Venus said, nervousness clear in her voice. Gentarou took a good look at her built: she was rather athletic and sturdy, and it wasn't much of a stretch to think she might be able to break someone's neck if so she wanted. It wasn't a stretch at all.

Pluto sighed. "It would seem so. Of course, we cannot _entirely_ rule out the possibility someone else is on this ship with us. But it's-"

"Unlikely," Mercury finished for him. "I don't like the idea at all, but… I agree." He sighed before looking past Gentarou, where Miss Murakami's body still lay. "Perhaps we should… you know, at least lean her on one of the beds, perhaps put some sheets on her. We cannot leave her like that."

Gentarou didn't think there was any point in it – she was dead, and dead people certainly do not need to be comfortable – but apparently everyone felt like being terribly sentimental, he didn't have any interest in arguing. So he just nodded and went to take the sheets off a bed while Pluto and Mercury went to lift her body and lay her on the closest bed. Mercury was brushing her hair off her face when Gentarou approached with the sheets, and even though they were quick to take the sheets from his hands and cover the body Gentarou could see for a moment the marks on her right cheek – scratches, probably from the moment her murderer's hand had grabbed her face before twisting her head, snapping her neck.

Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, Gentarou quickly walked back to the middle of the rooms along with Nitro and Pluto. Nagisa and Teruaki had meanwhile rejoined the group, and the child seemed calmer now, if still deathly pale and once again unresponsive; Gentarou wondered what Nagisa had exactly told him.

"So… what now?" Nagisa was asking, his voice low.

"Now we go ahead," Venus replied, her voice just as quiet, gaze fixed on the three numbered doors.

Mars blinked. She was still pale, and when she spoke her voice shook. "Ahead?" she repeated, sounding terrified. B-but one of us may be…!"

"I'm afraid we have no other choice," Mercury pointed out. "One or more of us could be murderers, true – but we have only six hours left, and if we don't leave this ship by then we're all going to die anyway. Don't you agree?"

Gentarou nodded. "Not much choice there," he said quietly, and the others agreed – no, they had no choice.

"I suppose we should rethink the teams," Pluto muttered.

"Well, not necessarily."

Everyone turned to glance at Mercury, who reached in his pocket to take out something – a key card with a [8] printed on it. "Murakami's card," he explained. "It fell from her pocket when we lifted her on the bed. If we use this, we could keep the teams as they-"

"W-wait."

Gentarou blinked when Teruaki spoke up. He was staring down at the floor and his voice was weak, but he did not break down again. "What is it, dear?" Venus asked gently.

Teruaki swallowed. "I-I want to g-go in with Nagisa and G-Gentarou," he murmured, causing Gentarou to blink. Why him? He glanced at Nagisa, who gave him a slight nod and mouthed a 'later'. What had he told to the child? Had he told him that Murakami had wanted them to get him out of there?

Nitro glanced at Pluto. "Is there a way?"

Pluto scratched his chin in through for a few moments, brow furrowing in thought. "Yes. Yes, there is. Nitro, would you be kind enough to go with Gentarou, Nagisa and Teruaki? Your digital root would be [3], and the rest of us could go through door [7]."

Nitro nodded. "If it's alright with the kids," was all he said.

"It's fine with us," Nagisa said, putting a hand on Teruaki's shoulder. "Gentarou?"

Gentarou hesitated for a moment. On one hand, it was true that he would find himself with two people out of three who he was _sure_ could not have killed Murakami and thus were unlikely to be among the responsible of that madness. But on the other hand he did not trust Nitro, and the man looked pretty damn strong; Teruaki would have been useless in case they needed to resort to strength to defend themselves, and he did not think Nagisa and himself would be strong enough to fight him off.

Then again, just as he did not trust Nitro, he trusted nobody else – so for all he knew going through some other door with others would have put him in even bigger danger. He couldn't tell for sure there was only one wolf in sheep's clothing among them. In the end, he shot another glance at Nagisa and nodded. "Works for me," he finally said. "Not that it makes much difference. We're bound to meet again later," he added, fully aware that from that moment on it was going to be nothing short of a race, all of them trying to reach door [9] first… and with allies that would allow them to _open_ said door and leave, leaving the others behind.

Venus nodded. "True enough. It is set, then," she said, then looked down at the card still in Mercury's hand – Murakami's. "As for that card, perhaps you should let Teruaki have it," she added.

Despite her attempts at sounding pleasant, Gentarou could immediately guess what her true worry was: with that card Mercury and Pluto would have been able to open door [9] by themselves, so what would have kept them from killing her and Mars behind door [7], blame it to an accident and then go together through door [9] when they got the occasion? Nothing would. But at the same time…

"I don't think that's a good idea," Gentarou spoke up. "Teruaki is just a kid, and any of us could take the card from him. If the murderer wanted Murakami's card – speaking hypothetically, of course – then what would keep them from targeting Teruaki as well? He'd be an even easier prey."

A brief silence followed, most of them uncomfortable shifting their gaze through the room; Teruaki was almost hiding behind Nagisa and him now. In the end, it was Pluto to speak.

"Fair enough," he said. "If the murderer truly was after the card, then giving it to Teruaki would put him in danger. What do you suggest us to do, then?"

Gentarou thought quickly. He couldn't suggest himself or Nagisa to keep the card; young as they were, someone could object that they would make easy targets as well. But on the other hand, he trusted none of those who would go in the other room – and if Mercury and Pluto truly did work together to make it out with the cards needed to go through door [9], given that door [9] would be the next they'd encounter, there was too much of a risk of being left behind to drown. On the other hand…

"Let's leave it here," he said quietly, then, "for now."

For a few moments, everyone stared at him as though he had gone mad. "Leave it here?" Mars repeated, clearly confused. "But… why? We could… need it, right?"

Venus, however, seemed to be more perceptive. "For now?" she repeated.

Gentarou nodded. "Yes. You mentioned there were closed doors with odd symbols above the lock on A Deck; we found another door with a similar symbol back behind door [3]; there was a key to open it. I'm certain it's the same for those doors, and that we're meant to find the keys to open them somewhere – which means that we must be about to return to those doors at some point. And if we can return there, then we'll be able get back into this room as well," he added. He could not be _completely_ certain of it, but it was a fairly logical conclusion… and after all, _he_ certainly did not need the [8] key card to get out – not if he stuck to the plan of getting out with Nagisa, Teruaki and Mars… and Pluto, maybe. "No one here has any need for that card in this moment anyway – isn't that right?" he added, staring straight in the eyes of each of them.

Identical, anonymous faces turned away from his gaze one after another. Just as he had thought, none of them would risk inviting further suspicion on themselves by insisting to take the card with them. In the end, it was Pluto to speak.

"You do have a point. Very well, then. Mercury, would you mind leaving the card here?" he asked.

Mercury didn't look seem enthusiastic – no one did, after all – but he did take the card out of his pocket and went to put it on one of the cots before walking back up to them. "Alright. I guess we should get going now."

It was quickly decided that they would all go in at the same time so that neither team could take the card while the other went ahead. Gentarou was not surprised: none of them trusted the others, after all.

Himself included.


	5. Door 3

As Door [3] closed behind them with a clang, Gentarou managed to chase away the sensation of being sealed into a grave. The relief to see that there was no long hallway and countless doors ahead of them – only a very short hallway with just one door – definitely helped.

"Well, I thought worse."

Nitro looked down at him. "What does it mean, worse?"

"Behind Door [4] there was one hell of a long hallway with more doors than I care to count," Nagisa answered. "Didn't you get anything like that?"

"Nothing like that, no. Short hallway like this one, then a room. After that, not much of a walk until we got to the casino. Which was actually kinda fun," he gave a small chuckle before sobering up and looking down at Teruaki; he stood on the back of the group, and hadn't spoken one single word for the past several minutes. "Are you alright, kid?"

Teruaki shook his head in silence. Nitro cleared his throat. "Look, about what I said earlier – it wasn't your fault, kid. There are rotten people in the world and they're to blame for this. Not you. Got it?"

Teruaki's shoulders shook for a moment as he draw in a trembling breath, and that was the only reaction Nitro could get out of him. Nagisa put a hand on the child's back. "I think we should move," he said, and Gentarou completely agreed – they had wasted enough time as it was.

"At least we know which way we must go," he muttered, walking up to the old, rusty door and pushing it open. He didn't stop one moment to even wonder what was on the other side: he had already seen a kitchen, after all, so he very much doubted anything could surprise him anymore.

It turned out he was wrong.

"… a bathroom?" Gentarou heard Nitro blurting out.

It was more like a shower room with what looked like toilet cubicles on one side than a proper bathroom, but the point still stood that he _was_ surprised. And more than a little. "It looks like it," he murmured, taking a few steps to the center of the room. There was a door on the far end, with a card reader mounted on it – and above it was a symbol that matched none of the key cards in their possession. "It also looks like we're on for another key card hunt," he sighed.

"Then here's an idea – let's find it quickly and get the fuck out of here," Nagisa spoke up, and Gentarou immediately realized something was wrong with him: his voice shook, and sounded weak. He turned to glance at him. Nagisa had a rather pale complexion, but now Gentarou was taken aback to see he was deathly pale, so much more then moments ago, hands folded on his stomach; much like Teruaki when he had begged not to go through Door 5, he realized. What the hell was _happening_?

"What's wrong, kid?" Nitro asked, sounding just as confused as Gentarou felt. Even Teruaki seemed to have snapped out of his confusion and was now staring up at Nagisa, eyes wide.

Nagisa swallowed. "I… I don't know. I was fine until a minute ago, then it was kinda like being punched in the stomach and… I just… " he paused and shuddered again, still white as a sheet. "Never mind. Let's just find a way out of here – I don't like being stuck here," he said, voice shaky.

Gentarou snorted. "I don't think you'd be of much help like this," he said. "Try sitting down and-"

He was cut off by Nagisa's sudden groan as he pressed hand over his mouth and darted through the room, and to the cubicles. The first one he tried to get into turned out to be locked, but he did manage to open the next one and get in. And barely on time, too: just one moment after he collapsed on his knees in front of the toilet, Gentarou could clearly hear the unmistakable sound of someone throwing up.

"Maybe whatever they knocked us out with is having some side effects," Nitro suggested flatly.

Gentarou wrinkled his nose in distaste. "At least he made it to a toilet instead of hurling his guts all over the floor."

"Gee, _thanks_," Nagisa said hoarsely one moment before flushing the toilet and coming out of the cubicle, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "You're a real friend."

Gentarou blinked at his choice of terms – friend? They barely even knew each other! – but Nitro spoke before he could react in any other way. "Are you okay, kid?"

Nagisa shook his head. "No. Not okay. But at least I nothing left to throw up," he replied, wiping his mouth. "Let's find a way out of this fucking place okay?"

Now that was an idea Gentarou could completely get behind. "Let's get looking for the key card, then," he muttered, moving to the cubicles where the toilets were and making sure to walk the one farthest away from the one where Nagisa had puked. Not that the search lasted much: there was nothing in it, not on the floor nor in the tank. Nothing aside from… well, the toilet. That, and the chain he was meant to pull to flush it.

Gentarou looked at it for a few moments, then pulled it to flush.

Nothing happened aside from, well, the toilet flushing.

He pulled again.

And again.

"What the hell are you _doing_?" Nagisa asked, peering into the cubicle.

"Flushing the toilet," Gentarou replied with a shrug. Really, wasn't it obvious?

A moment of silence. "… why would you do that?"

"Well, there is nothing in this cubicle, but maybe something will happen if I flush enough times. We're nine players, so maybe…" he said, still flushing the toilet.

_Six times, seven times…_

Nagisa snorted. "What, you think flushing the toilet will help?"

"Why not?" Gentarou snapped back somewhat defensively.

_Eight times…_

"Why not? Because it's the _dumbest_ idea I've ever heard in my life, that's wh-"

… _and nine_.

Clack.

The sudden noise caused Nagisa to trail off and Gentarou to still for a few moments, hand still on the chain, then they heard Nitro speaking up.

"Hey, the first cubicle unlocked! How the hell did you do that?"

Gentarou felt the most idiotic and satisfied grin spreading on his face as Nagisa stared back at him in disbelief. "_Ha_! I _told_ you!" he exclaimed before walking past him and outside the cubicle to take a look.

The previously locked door was actually open, and Nitro was taking a look inside already. Gentarou peered in, and saw he was trying to open the toilet tank – without much success, actually. When Nitro took a step back, Gentarou could see why: unlike the others it seemed to be made of metal, and it was literally rusted in place.

"There's no opening this without getting rid of the rust," Nitro grumbled before picking up something that had been sitting on the ground: a steel bucket, and inside it…

"Rubber gloves?" Nagisa asked aloud. "What for?"

"Beats me," was Nitro's reply.

"Maybe we should try flushing them. And flush the other toilets. Flush _all_ the toilets," Gentarou suggested a bit too flippantly, still rather self-satisfied over opening that door in the first place.

Two pair of eyes stared back at him, causing his half-smirk to fade.

"What _is_ it with you and flushing toilets?" Nagisa asked, sounding rather baffled.

He cleared his throat. "I was, er, joking. Of course."

Nitro rolled his eyes. "Your jokes suck, kid," he informed him before walking past him with the bucket and the gloves.

"Now that was uncalled for," Gentarou grumbled.

Nitro and Nagisa ignored him and looked at the gloves. "Guess we should wear them," Nagisa suggested.

Gentarou snorted. "Good call, Captain Obvious."

"At least _I_ don't keep suggesting to flush things down the toilet!"

"I _told_ you, it was a joke!"

"And _I_ told _you_ that you're _forbidden_ to make jokes."

"Really? Who died and made you the captain of this shi-"

"Guys, this is not the right moment to play the old married couple," Nitro snapped, cutting off Gentarou mid-sentence. "Seriously, the youngest kid here is the only one who's not requiring babysitting."

That caused both Gentarou and Nagisa to turn their attention back to Teruaki. They had nearly forgotten he was even in the room, and the reason why was that the child wasn't making a sound, nor was he even moving: he was on the floor with his knees up to his chest, his back resting on the divider in front of the door through which they had gotten into, gaze locked dead ahead of him. He seemed to be barely even alive, giving no sign of having even realized they had fallen silent and were looking at him.

"Do you think he'll ever be alright again?" Nagisa asked quietly.

Gentarou shrugged. "I don't think he was ever alright to begin with," he said plainly. For a moment he almost asked him what he had told the child back in the hospital room, but changed his mind pretty quickly – Nitro could listen, after all, and he'd rather not share any information at all with someone he already planned on leaving behind to survive. Taking a mental note to speak to Mars at the first opportunity that presented itself, he looked away from Teruaki. "Let's just focus on getting out of here. Okay, we cannot figure out the gloves, but what about the bucket? We sure need to fill it with something."

Nagisa glanced on their left. "There are shower heads there," he said, and took a few steps to them – but suddenly paled and staggered back, his hand pressing once more against his mouth. "Shit," he groaned, quickly stepping back.

"Feeling sick again?" Nitro asked, sounding rather concerned. Even Teruaki suddenly looked up and at him, snapped out of his trance.

There were a few moments of silence as Nagisa just stood there with his eyes shut, then he opened them and pulled his hand away from his mouth. "Not now," he said, sounding surprised himself. "I'm good. I just felt sick when I got closer to the divider. This is pretty damn weird."

His words had the result of making Teruaki finally look up first and then hastily stand up and move away from said divider, but Gentarou couldn't for his life see what could possibly be wrong with it. Besides, how could it have anything to do with something like sickness? "Must be a coincidence," he commented.

Nagisa shrugged. "Yeah, it sure is, but… I'm staying over here another minute, okay? No need for all three of us to check out the shower, right?"

"Not really, no." Gentarou shrugged, and went to the showers. He reached to turn the knob, and there was the sound of liquid running through pipes. "Seems to be working," he said, turning to glance at the others. "Water should come out any- what the _fuck_?"

The last few words weren't spoken words as much as a cry of alarm and surprise and sudden fear. He quickly backed off the shower, smell of burnt fabric reaching his nostrils. There was a hole in his sleeve, where the drop had fallen onto his arm. He stared at it numbly for a few moments as more liquid began falling from the shower and onto the tiled floor, liquid that smelled _nothing_ like water. Gentarou wrinkled his nose at the strong, irritating smell.

"Hey, are you okay?" Nagisa asked, sounding suddenly worried, then followed Gentarou's gaze and saw the hole in his sleeve. "Holy _shit_," he breathed. "It's like it's some kind of acid…"

"It _is_," Teruaki suddenly spoke up, sounding rather alarmed and definitely a lot more aware of his surroundings than he had been until a moment ago. Later on, Gentarou would think well over how immediate danger had been enough to make him snap from his trance, trauma or not.

He would think long and hard about it.

Nitro growled. "Damn, this was some kind of fucking trap…"

"We have to c-close the tap," Teruaki said, urgency still clear in his voice. "I t-think it's Hydrofluoric acid. Maybe it's d-diluted, but it's p-poisonous. We s-shouldn't be breathing it."

Despite the situation, Nitro gave something similar to a chuckle. "You know your chemistry, eh, boy genius?" he asked, then began to put on the rubber gloves on. "Let me try something before I close the tap…"

What he was planning on doing was pretty easy to guess. Gentarou just watched as he carefully put the steel bucket under the trickle to collect some acid before carefully reaching to close the tap. The acid stopped coming down, and Gentarou breathed easily again. "So this was a trap, uh?" he muttered.

"Bet it was. You were lucky to get the acid on your sleeve alone – hell, it could have gotten your eye, or face, or whatever…"

"It would have been a distinctive sign, if anything," Gentarou murmured.

"What?"

He shook his head. "Nothing," he said, then glanced down at Teruaki and made an effort to smile, more to change subject than because of any other reason. "Glad to see we have you back, rabbit kid," he said, calling him with the moniker Nagisa had used right after he had gone off rambling about rabbit populations and number sequences.

Teruaki looked up at him and, while he did not smile, he was at least responsive. "Nagisa t-told me Miss Murakami would have w-wanted me to m-m-make it out," he murmured.

Gentarou shot a quick glance to his left to make sure Nitro wasn't listening – no, he was too busy carefully moving the bucket closer to the cubicle where the rusty toilet tank was – then reached down to ruffle the boy's already unruly hair. "Sure she wanted to get out. And we _will_ get you out, I promise. Just stick with us, alright?"

A nod. "T-that's what she t-told me. I-in the kitchen. T-that I should s-stick with you if something happened t-to her," he added. His voice sounded a little more strained, but he did not have a breakdown nor lapse into apathy again.

Well, Gentarou thought, now that made everything easier: the kid wouldn't go against Murakami's advice. "Yes, she asked us to look after you. And we will," he added, giving the little boy a light pat on the shoulder before walking up to the other side of the room, so see how Nitro was doing. He had taken off his undershirt and tied around his head so that it would cover his nose and mouth, and was currently carefully balancing the bucket above the rusted toilet tank before – slowly – pouring some of the acid on it.

"Stay back," he muttered over the hissing noise of acid being poured, voice muffled by the undershirt, and Gentarou didn't need him to repeat himself: he quickly walked away from the cubicle, covering his own mouth and nose with the hem of his turtleneck shirt, and waited.

It wasn't a long wait: in a matter of minutes they heard Nitro putting down the bucket before reaching for the tank with – Gentarou assumed – gloved hands. There were a few moments of grunting and a couple of profanities were uttered, then there was the sound of metal sliding against metal, and the sudden clang of something heavy and metallic falling on the tiled floor. Still, none of them paid to it nearly as much attention as they paid to Nitro's words.

"Here you are, you son of a bitch! Hey, kids, found a key card!"

Gentarou nodded, torn between relief and worry: on one hand they had the key card that would get the out of there… but on the other hand, if Nitro was going to try killing any of them it would be now. So he stayed tense as he waited for him to come out of the cubicle; the fact he had a bucket with acid in it made him even more dangerous, and—

… and instead he came out of the cubicle with nothing in his hands but they key card, a huge smile on his – anonymous – face, the undershirt in his other hand. "Here's our ticket out of here," he announced, waving the hand with the card. "There's a symbol on it, too. Looks a lot like the one… yes, the one on the reader next to the elevator."

Gentarou frowned. "Elevators?" he repeated. Nagisa and Teruaki seemed just as confused.

"Oh, right, you weren't there," Nitro said. "When the rest of us took a first look around on this deck, I mean. Aside from the door with that weird lock on the A Deck, we found a couple of elevators here, on the C Deck. There's this door at the end of the hallway that leads back to the staircase: found the key to open it in the first class cabin. Both elevators need a card to work, though. So you were right, boy – we are really supposed to be back there at some point. And I think this is one of the cards we need. It has the same symbol… what is it?"

Gentarou didn't reply for a few moments, hand still searching the pocket of his vest, then he pulled out the key card they had found in the kitchen. "Did the symbol on the other elevator's card reader look anything like this?" he asked, showing him the key card. He knew well that it might be a risk – who would stop him from attacking to have it, since it clearly was important? – but then again, if he hadn't killed them yet even though had the chance to more than once he likely wouldn't.

Nitro blinked, and made no move to take the card. "Yes, that's exactly it! Where did you find it?"

"Behind Door [4]," Gentarou replied, not really wanting to explain where it exactly was lodged and what they had to do to get out. All of a sudden he was very, very glad he had not shown that card to the others before: had he done so when it still was the only one they had and thus the only one that could make an elevator work, he suspected there was a strong possibility he would have been killed in Murakami's place, if anything to take it from him; wasn't that the point of that whole thing? Wasn't putting the key to the door leading back to the staircase in one room and the key card to use the elevator near it in another a way to pit them against each other in a fight for survival?

"Well, then it looks like we've got plenty of places to see," Nitro said with a laugh before gesturing for them to approach the door. "C'mon, let's go."

None of them needed him to repeat himself twice. The card went into the card reader, and there was the heavenly beeping noise and the clack of a lock being opened. Nitro stuffed the key card in his pocket and led them out, into a L-shaped hallway. There were no doors as far as they could see, so they turned the corner – and there is was, a door with no lock nor number on it. Nagisa grabbed the handles and smirked.

"So, boss, ready to see if your hypothesis was right?"

Gentarou smirked. "After hearing of the elevators, I'd bet money on it. Also, Nitro?"

"What?"

"Put that back on."

The man seemed confused for a moment, then he looked down at the undershirt still in his hand and laughed. "Yeah, good point. Someone may ask why I'm shirtless around young kids, eh?" he said, putting the undershirt back on. "Okay, I'm my usual glorious, pink-clad self. Open the door, kid."

Nagisa laughed a bit and threw the door open, then...

...then they were back in the hospital room.

"Now I wish we _actually_ bet money," Gentarou said with a shrug. "Didn't expect to get back in this room directly through this door, though. Guess it could only be opened from inside."

"Yeah, it wouldn't budge from this side," Nitro said, careful to leave the door ajar in case they ever needed to get back there. "I tried for a bit before you came along. You wasted a lot of time beyond Door [4]. Did you have a nice meal in that kitchen you mentioned, or- kid, no, don't – _don't._"

Gentarou frowned in confusion. "What?" he asked, only to realize that it wasn't to him Nitro was talking to: he was talking to Teruaki, and the reason why was clear: while none of them paid attention to him, he had stepped closer to the cot where Miss Murakami's body was. He didn't try to pull the blanket off her or anything, he just… stood there until Nitro reached him and gently pulled him back.

"Don't look," the man told him, making him turn and keeping a hand on his back . "It's better if you don't. Stay close to us, okay?"

"Damn," Nagisa murmured, his voice so low only Gentarou could hear. "He really didn't need to see that again. Hope he won't space out again."

But he didn't: even though he was once again trembling, he was well aware of what was going on around him. "I… d-don't want to l-leave her here," he murmured.

Gentarou bit his lower lip. "But we have to. We can't… just drag her along. We need to get out of here," he told him, choosing not to think of the fact they may never get out of there, that the may be killed before they could reach Door [9]. "Then we'll find help, and someone will come to-"

A sudden sob wracked Teruaki's chest, but it wasn't that to cut him off as much as the sudden, furious glare he gave him. "L-l-liar," he choked out. "D-don't lie to me. We're n-n-not coming back. And n-no one will g-get her back, because… because they'd never m-make it on time a-and the ship will s-sinks with her in it, and I d-don't want to leave her here, I… I d-don't want to l-leave her here, I…" his voice faded, and he just began crying again.

Gentarou scowled and opened his mouth to tell him that if he so wished to stay with her and die he could at least let them have his card, but Nagisa spoke first, kneeling in front of the child – and in retrospect, it was a really good thing.

"Look, I don't want to leave her here, either, but… we've got to keep going, you know. Or else we won't make it out, and… you know she wanted you to be okay, right? You remember what I told you earlier, right?" he asked. Teruaki sniffled and nodded, and after a quick glance at Nitro – who seemed to be at a loss when it came to deal with the crying child and was currently on the other side of the room pretending to be very interested in some of the cots – he went on. "Can I tell you something else? Something she told me and Gentarou back in the second class cabin?"

Teruaki looked up at him in surprise and nodded, reaching up to dry the tears on his cheeks.

"She said that you were like a son to her. Do you think a parent would want their child to drown?"

There were a few moments of silence, the child looking up at him and apparently genuinely unsure of what the answer was. In the end, Nagisa had to give the answer himself.

"Of course not. She wouldn't want you to die because of her. Don't you think?"

Teruaki looked at Nagisa for a few more moments, eyes huge behind the lenses, then bit his lower lip. "B-but she d-died because of me," he said, his voice so weak it was barely audible. "If she d-didn't stay c-close to me-"

"Don't you get it? She would have _died_ rather than seeing _you_ dead," Gentarou snarled. It was partly out of frustration – she was _dead_, what good would it do to them thinking of what would become of an empty shell? – and partly out of anger. It had always angered him how everyone, all those _monkeys_, would be so attached to one another. He always told himself it was because he thought it was stupid, for people were inherently selfish and would always put themselves in the first place in the end. If they didn't, they were weak, because being so attached to anyone was a weakness, it _had_ to be a weakness – and it fact it got Murakami killed, did it not?

But sometimes – not often, but sometimes, and _that_ was one of those times – he was almost able to admit to himself that it simply plainly _hurt_ that he was unable to feel the same for anyone.

Unaware of the thoughts going on through his mind, Teruaki stared up at him. "She… really…?" he asked, his voice still pathetically weak. Gentarou felt a sudden urge to hit him, because while the child was broken in many ways he was not defective the way _he_ was, and for an instant that infuriated him beyond words. He clenched his fists and made an effort to smile at him instead.

"Yes. Really. So do her this favor now – get out alive with us. So that we can call police and someone will pay for her death. How does that sound? You want the person who killed her to pay, right?"

Teruaki didn't reply right away: he first turned to look at the bed Murakami lay onto. "Yes," he finally whispered, his voice suddenly a lot colder, and not at all befitting a child. But then again, there was _nothing_ in the situation at hand befitting a child.

Nagisa made a remarkable attempt at a smile. "Then stick with us, okay? I promise we-"

The sound of the door behind them creaking open made him trail off. They turned to the door, expecting to see the others – Mercury, Pluto, Venus, Mars – walking out, but only one person stood in the door.

Mercury.

And there was a white bundle in his arms, something that looked far too much like a human body.

For a few moments, none of them spoke: they just stared at each other as every detail – Mercury's paleness, his trembling upper lip, the red spots on the white sheet – slowly sank in Gentarou's mind. It felt unreal, as though it wasn't really happening, as though he was remembering the details of some forgotten dream that had somehow lingered in the back of his mind after awakening.

The illusion was finally broken when Mercury finally stepped in the hospital room, still silent, and went to lean the bundle, the lifeless thing that had once been a—  
_monkey  
_—human being on the closest cot. Gentarou saw Nitro opening his mouth to speak, but in the end he didn't say anything to Mercury: instead, he looked back up and to the door. "What happened?" he rasped, and Gentarou turned back to see that now Pluto and Venus were in the doorframe as well, both terribly pale; Venus was clinging to Pluto's arm, and he was chewing his lower lip bloody.

Venus said nothing: she brought a hand in front of her mouth and muffled a sob. It was Pluto to answer.

"I… I had to," he said, his voice shaking. "Mars, she… she had gone berserk. She… I don't know why, I don't know…" his voice faded, and he dropped his head. It was only then that Gentarou noticed the red stain on the front of his business attire; the tie had turned almost completely red, and it had started out beige.

"Mars… is dead?" Nagisa asked, but there really was not much of a point in asking: it was pretty obvious by that point, really. The real question now was another.

"But… how? What happened? What the _hell_ happened?" Nitro asked, his usually deep voice getting at least a couple of octaves higher. "What does it _mean_, she went berserk?"

Teruaki kept silent, but slid behind Gentarou and Nagisa as though he someone feared the answer would physically harm him otherwise. It was Pluto to finally speak, his voice weak.

"It means just that. She… we… " he paused and drew in a deep breath. "The room we were into was some kind of… laboratory. There were surgical instruments all around. While we were searching she just… snapped. She took a scalpel, and…"

He stopped speaking, and a heavy silence fell on the room. Gentarou blinked. "Are you saying she _attacked_ you?" he asked, barely able to even wrap his mind around the idea. Why would she do something that stupid? Even with a scalpel she would be at disadvantage, outnumbered and far smaller and weaker than all the others in that room. She couldn't be older than sixteen – why had she done that? What had she been _thinking_?

Venus let out a small noise that would have been a sob, and Pluto put his arm around her shoulders. "She tried to attack Venus," he said. "I don't know why, but while we – Venus and I – were talking and she was giving Mars her back, she took out this scalpel and tried to stab her in the back. I don't know why, I didn't even stop to wonder. I just-" he trailed off with a shuddering breath, shutting his eyes.

"I heard him crying out for Venus to move, and turned the next moment," Mercury spoke up instead, his voice distant. "Pluto pushed Venus out of the way and grabbed Mars' wrists to keep her from stabbing her. Mars… she kept screaming, but there were no actual words. Just screams. She seemed to have gone insane, and kept trying to get past Pluto and to Venus. Then she tried to stab him, and… it happened in only a few moments. They struggled for the scalpel, and Pluto managed to get a hold of it, and the next moment…"

Pluto choked back a sob. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know what to do."

A long, heavy silence followed. In the end, it was Nitro to speak. "Did she…?"

"She died immediately," Venus choked out, still looking terribly shaken. "The scalpel pierced her heart. I… I don't know… why would she try to kill me?" she asked, confusion plain in her voice.

Gentarou sighed and reached up to scratch his head. "Beats me if I know," he muttered. That made no sense, absolutely none.

"D-do you t-think… do you think that m-maybe it was her to…?" Teruaki's weak voice was finally heard for the first time in several minutes. His eyes darted for just a moment to the cot Miss Murakami's body lay onto.

Nagisa shook his head. "No, I… I don't think so. I mean, she was just… what, sixteen? Didn't look very strong. And Murakami was taller than her, and…" he paused. "Don't know. I guess it's _possible_ she could break someone's neck, but…"

"… not likely," Gentarou finished for him. "Not likely at all. Besides, I'd think someone cold enough to commit a murder like that one would know better than grabbing a scalpel and throwing themselves at someone screaming."

"I agree," Mercury said with a nod, gazing down at the body on the cot, still wrapped in the white sheet. "I mean, she didn't seem like a cold murderer at all. She seemed to have lost her mind."

Venus swallowed. "She was… very upset by Murakami's murder," she murmured. "Perhaps that, plus the tension – god, that laboratory was horrible – made her snap…"

Pluto nodded gravely. "That could be it. But I suppose we will never know for sure," he said, then looked up at his hands. He had certainly wiped them, but there was still some blood staining his suit's wrists. "My God, I can't believe I…" he paused and shuddered. Venus put her hand on his arm.

"You saved my life," she said softly. Pluto smiled weakly at her.

"I'm glad I could do at least that," he murmured, reaching to put a hand on hers.

Gentarou watched the scene without thinking anything of it: all of his thoughts were for the teams that had been decided before Murakami was killed and they rearranged themselves so that Teruaki could stick with both himself and Nagisa. Had that not happened – had not Murakami been murdered, had Teruaki not insisted to be with both him and Nagisa – he would have gone through Door [7] along with Mars and Nitro; had she tried to stab _him_ in the back instead, would Nitro have been fast enough to save him? Would he have even _bothered_ to? He had not tried to harm him or the others in the shower room, that much was true, but it was no guarantee he wouldn't if desperate enough, nor that he would risk his life to help anyone out should someone else try to kill them. Perhaps he would have let Mars kill him, and then killed her before taking their cards. If he just convinced Venus to go with him, their digital root would be [9], and…

Gentarou scowled at the thought and glanced at Pluto and Venus with some suspicion. He had risked his life to save hers – could there be something behind it? He was unable to truly wrap his mind around the idea that anyone would be willing to die to save a complete stranger: the mere though seemed to alien to him. He tried to think of what advantaged a move like that could bring to Pluto. His and Venus' digital root would be [2], so all they would have needed to get out was Nitro's own card. What if they were planning on getting out together, the three of them?

Then again, Gentarou reasoned, if that was their goal, why hadn't they killed Mercury as well and blamed it on Mars? Why hadn't Nitro killed the three of them into the shower room? Or maybe it was Pluto, Venus and Mercury working together? What if they had gotten Mars out of the way and completely made up her attempt at killing Venus? Their digital root would be [3], so all that they would need to get out was Teruaki's [6] card, or…

The sudden realization hit him, making his feel as though he had just swallowed ice. What if all of them – all of the adults, aside from Murakami – were working together? By combining their card numbers – [1], [2], [7], [9] – with Murakami's [8] card, the digital root would be [9]. All that they'd need to do was killing Mars, himself, Nagisa and Teruaki – the other team that could make a digital root of [9] – and get out of that accursed ship; but if that was the case… why had only Mars died? Why were they still alive? Why hadn't Nitro killed them already? He could have easily enough done so in the shower room, and yet he had not. And why were they not attacking them just now? They were into a laboratory, and they said there were scalpels; they had likely brought at least one with them. They could kill them easily. Why _hadn't_ they? Why _wait_?

He couldn't think of any logical answer. So maybe his theory was wrong, after all.

Or maybe not. How could he _know_? He trusted none of them, and yet could not tell whether they had truly teamed up against them… given that he could trust Nagisa any more than he trusted them, of course. But at the moment, he wanted to: he had been with him the whole time, and Gentarou needed to know that there was at least _someone_ on his side aside from a wreck of a kid. But even if he were, what could the three of them possibly do?

_How can we get out of here without Mars' card?_

"We should keep moving."

Nitro's voice snapped Gentarou from his morbid thoughts. He glanced up at him to see he was looking at his watch. "We have less than five hours to get out of here. We're all pretty damn shaken, but we cannot waste time. You know what happens once time's up."

He did know, of course – all of them did – but for a few moments Gentarou had nearly forgotten all about the time limit, all about whoever had put them into that sick game: all he could worry about were the—  
_faceless monkeys  
_—people he was stuck with.

All of a sudden, being locked into a sinking ship seemed the last of his problems.

* * *

"You look awfully thoughtful. Reconsidering your bet, Kagechika?"

Musashidou tore his gaze from the monitor and glanced at the others. As always when one of the players died, the lounge was quite animated: everyone would be discussing the possible outcome and possible teams, bets would be paid, new bets would be placed; paying a penalty allowed each of them to bet on a different player than the original one even if the latter hadn't died yet, but it could only be used once through the game. It would be too convenient otherwise, he had been explained, and he agreed: no need to spoil the fun.

Still, it never failed to make Musashidou wonder how many of those people had bet on _him_ nine years earlier, when he had been one of the players. He was ready to bet – ah, he truly was incorrigible, was he not? – that not many of them had thought he would make it. Lord Dashiell Gordain had, that much was for sure, and by being the only survivor of that game Musashidou had allowed him to win one last bet before the old bastard's age finally caught up with him and reduced him from a withered old man to a withered _corpse_.

Musashidou pushed such thoughts away and smiled at the other man. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered what it would have felt like breaking his glass and sticking the broken edge in his neck, seeing his eyes going glossy and empty as life drained from his body along with the blood. There would be screams, no doubt, but he was used to them. To them, and to the smell of blood: it wasn't a smell one could easily forget, not after stabbing more than one man to death in a desperate struggle to survive. There were some nights when Musashidou awakened, safe and warm in his own home, and could have sworn he smelled blood.

It wasn't an entirely unpleasant sensation.

"I think I'll keep my bet as it is," he just said, idly stirring his drink before tilting his head back toward the screen. "I recognize potential when I see it. Number [5] has plenty. I think he can make it out."

A sigh. "I know you have a thing for hopeless cases, but he's just a boy. The odds are against him."

"They were against _me_ as well," Musashidou pointed out with a smirk and a wave of his hand. "Now, let's be honest here. Most other players seemed to have more chances than I did: short fat man, good for nothing but number crunching and gambling. I was not strong, I was not fast, I was not the cleverest of the bunch; number [8] was a genius, if I recall correctly. But I was – am – resourceful. And I wanted to _live_. So does the boy," he added, and lifted his glass in a mock toast. "I'm sure number [5] will surprise all of you. Just wait and see."


	6. Door 8

_A/N: I little warning: there is violence and death in this chapter. I know it's hardly a surprise but hey, better safe than sorry._

* * *

"So, let's go over this again," Pluto spoke up. He seemed to have recovered at least a little as they discussed their next move, and he sounded a bit more like his usual controlled self again. "We have the two cards we need for the elevators on C Deck and opened the door leading to the staircase already, but we're still missing whatever key we need to open that door on the A Deck. Isn't that right?"

Mercury nodded. "Yes, that's about right. What do you think of it?"

Pluto reached up to rub his chin before turning to the last door in that room they had not yet gone through: Door [8]. "If there is a place we have not yet searched where we could find that key, it's behind that door," he reasoned.

"So you're saying we should go through it to search?" Nitro asked.

"This means we'd have to split. No more than five people can get through the doors, and there's seven of us here," Nagisa reasoned. Gentarou shot him a quick glance, and noticed he was tense. He wondered if he had contemplated the same scenarios he had thought of; if so, no wonder he was not looking happy. Things weren't looking so well for them.

But again, facts didn't really add up with his theory on the older players conspiring against the youngest ones: he couldn't shake off the feeling that if that was the case, they would not be alive in that moment; either Nitro would have killed them in the shower room, or they would have been killed with scalpels there, in the hospital room. Four adults, three of which likely armed, against two unarmed teens and a child; it would have been easy. And yet, no one had tried anything.

It made no sense.

"Some of us could go check where the elevators lead," Nitro suggested. "That way, we'd speed things up. We could meet in this room again when both groups are done, and decide what to do next."

Nitro's suggestion was a sensible one, and it didn't take much for everyone to agree. Gentarou did not trust him, that much was true… but then again he didn't trust anybody, and he at least knew that Nitro had not killed them while he had a perfect chance to – with those arms he could easily snap their necks, after all – and thus he was somewhat more reliable than the others in his eyes. Save from Nagisa and Teruaki, he supposed.

Venus nodded. "You have a point. How about…" she paused and thought about it for a few moments. "Nitro, you could go check the elevators with Nagisa and Teruaki. The rest of us could go through Door [8]. We could meet here again, as you said. What do you think?"

The suggestion caused Gentarou to tense. That would have meant going alone with Mercury, Venus and Pluto – three people he had been through no door at all with yet, three people who could have made any kind of plan against him and the others… three people who may have already murdered a person and blame it on her snapping.

"W-wait!" Teruaki spoke up, eyes wide with fear. "I… p-please, I want to s-stay with G-Gentarou and…"

"It is alright."

All eyes turned to the person who had spoken – Gentarou himself.

Teruaki blinked. "B-but…!"

"No buts. Go with Nitro and Nagisa and check where the elevators lead. We'll be fine. Wait for us here. I'm sure we'll be back soon," he said, his voice quiet.

He was taking a great risk; he knew that much. But on the other hand, if they were planning on killing him, Nagisa and Teruaki right away they would have already done so – why waste time? – and the only explanation he could think of for that, aside from the possibility he was wrong and they were not in cahoots against them, was that they still wanted to keep them alive for some time. He had no idea why, but he couldn't help but think that, if they hadn't finished them by now, they wouldn't do so right away. So maybe going along was the best way to go for now; pretend to trust them so that they'd see no harm in keeping him alive a while longer. And Gentarou didn't need much time: just enough to get a chance to speak to Nagisa away from the others, so that they could decide what to do – it was clear by that point that they needed to get Mars' key card to get away from there… but downright asking about it would have only drawn suspicion.

He felt that, for now, playing along was his best insurance.

Gentarou could only hope he wasn't wrong on that.

Unaware of his musings, but probably aware of the fact Gentarou had something in mind – he _did_ stare at him for a few moments – Nagisa nodded and smiled down at Teruaki. "Hey, it's alright. Nitro and I make good bodyguards anyway, don't we? And he'll be back soon."

Teruaki hesitated for a moment, then just nodded.

Mercury spoke up. "It's set, then. The four of us will take a look behind Door [8] while you guys go check what can be opened with these. We meet up again here, and-"

"What about the key cards?" Venus' sudden question seemed to take him by surprise. He blinked. "What about them?"

"We have Mars' card right now," Venus said. "But what of Murakami's? It's still here, and I was thinking… well…"

Nitro sighed. "You think Nagisa and I could just use it to get out of here, don't you?"

Venus' face suddenly flushed red. "I… no! I didn't think that! I just… I…" she paused and looked around, clearly not knowing that to say.

Now that Gentarou thought about it, she had a point: with Murakami's card, both Nagisa and Nitro could leave through Door [9], leaving Teruaki and all of them behind. He hadn't thought about that possibility. A part of his mind tried to argue that Nagisa would not leave without him and Teruaki, but he dismissed that thought: it was like he really _knew_ the other boy – he didn't know anybody in there – so he had no reason to think he wouldn't leave him behind if given a chance. They were complete strangers: why should he _stay_?

It was Pluto to solve the matter. "If we want to be completely sure nothing unpleasant will happen, we could bring both Mars' card and Murakami's with us behind Door [8]. After all, it cannot take you guys more than maybe ten minutes to check where the elevators lead, and going through the room is most certainly going to take us more, if it's anything like the others. So you'll be here in the hospital room waiting for us to get out. What do you think?"

There were a few moments of silence, the Nitro nodded. "Yeah, that sounds just fine," he said.

Everyone seemed to breathe a little more easily, but there was an underlying tension that did not escape Gentarou. And how could there _not_ be? They all were aware of the fact not everyone would be able to escape from that ship. They could push the issue aside for now, yes – but when they'd find themselves in front of Door [9], they would without doubt turn against each other. Gentarou knew that with complete certainty. And why should it be any different? None of them wanted to die, after all.

As Mercury and Venus went to take Murakami's key card where it had been left, Gentarou felt a light touch on his arms. He wasn't too surprised to see Nagisa standing right next to him.

"Be careful," he said quietly enough not to be heard by anyone but him, lips barely moving.

Gentarou gave a slight, almost unnoticeable not. "You, too," he heard himself saying, but he didn't look at Nagisa: he kept his eyes fixed on the number [8] written in red paint across the door, wondering what awaited him behind it.

* * *

To be completely honest, Gentarou's first impression of the room wasn't anything special: it appeared to be some sort of computer room, with a large glass window that took most of the wall at the far end. Then he noticed the opening on the left side, and stairs: a small doorway opened in the wall, leading down to whatever was behind the glass. At the moment, though, their attention was entirely focused on what looked like a control panel. "We need a key to get it working," Pluto muttered, tapping his finger on what looked everything like a keyhole above the monitor.

"Maybe it will open the door," Venus said. And in fact there was a door on their left, one with an electronic lock that had no slot for any key card. The control panel really did look like the only thing that could open it.

"And we have to look for the key," Gentarou sighed. "This is getting old rather quickly."

"I suppose then that we should start looking," Mercury said. All of them seemed to be at ease – at least as much as one could be in their current situation – and had not yet done anything against him, and that was enough for Gentarou to allow himself to be a little more optimistic over the fact he could, after all, leave that room alive.

He breathed a little more easily and nodded. "Agreed. The sooner we get out of here, the better. I'll check those," he added, stepping closer to some lockers on the wall near the control panel. He wasn't lucky, though: all of them seemed to be closed. There was no keyhole, though, nor a card slot. "Maybe we'll need the control panel to open this as we-" he began, only to be cut off by a sudden cry. Venus'.

He turned so quickly that his neck hurt, and saw that Venus was standing in front of the glass wall, a hand pressed on her mouth. Mercury immediately ran up to her to see what was going on, and so did Gentarou; as he ran past Pluto, who had been looking for the key under a desk with a computer on it, and heard him cursing as he tried to untangle his arm from the wires he had been searching among.

Gentarou and Mercury made it to the glass window at the same moment and immediately froze at either side of Venus, eyes fixed on the room below them.

It looked like some kind of surgery room, with some machines on one side and wires all around, but Gentarou barely paid attention to those: all he could stare at, all he could _see_, was the surgery table in the middle of the room.

There was a man there. A motionless, naked man with a gas mask over his face and wires connecting his head to the machine on his left. For a moment Gentarou thought he was dead, but then there was a movement; his chest rose and then fell. He was breathing. He was-

"He's alive! We've got to do something!"

Gentarou had barely enough time to process her words: one moment later she had left his side and was running to the opening leading to the surgery room. Mercury immediately followed and Gentarou took a few steps forward, more out of instinct than because of any other reason… then he froze in his tracks, his gaze fixed on top of the door Venus and Mercury were heading to.

There was a crack up there, right above the doorway, stretching from one end to the other and about a inch wide. All of a sudden and completely by instinct – the kind of instinct, he would reason later, that leads animals to rise their heads and look around when they sense a danger nearby – he knew that going through that opening and into the lab may turn out to be a grave mistake. He opened his mouth to call Venus and Mercury back, to tell them to wait a moment, that he had a hunch…

… and then closed it again without saying a word. Perhaps he was wrong, perhaps nothing would happen once Venus and Mercury were on the other side… but there was a possibility, and if it truly was a trap of some sorts, then… why _should_ he stop them? Not all of them could save themselves, and it was a given they'd all turn against each other soon… and against them he would have no chance. For him to live, they had to die – so why not let the ship do the dirty work for him?

All those thoughts ran through his mind in a split of second. Perhaps, was he given a few more moments, he would have called out for them after all. It was unlikely and something he would have deemed as a foolish move as an adult, but right now – right _then_ – he was still so young, so maybe he would have shouted a warning, if only he had more time to.

If only.

Mercury had barely disappeared through the opening when a metal shutter came down from the crack on the ceiling, sealing the opening shut with a deafening clang.

"_Fuck_!" Pluto yelled, and Gentarou saw him finally limping to door as well, a hand to his head – it appeared his had hit his head and knee in the attempt at quickly getting out from under the desk where he had been looking for the control panel's key. From the other side, Gentarou could hear Venus and Mercury frantically hitting the iron shutter. As Pluto tried and failed to find anything resembling a knob or a keyhole on the shutter, Gentarou pressed himself against the glass panel. If he craned his neck, he could see Venus and Mercury on top of the stairs. They were both hitting the shutter, of course, and their mouths were open as though they were screaming – but not one word made it out of the room. It seemed to be sealed shut.

Gentarou stared at their useless struggle to get out for a few moments, with a sudden sense of unreality. Now not only he could not tell their faces apart – he never could – but he couldn't even hear their _voices_, no matter how much they shouted. Faceless, voiceless, trapped things. What was there to qualify as human now? What was the difference between them and two rats caught in a snare?

There was none. _None_.

He tore his gaze from them and to the man who lay motionless on the operating table. A bag of bones and flesh, he thought, connected to a machine like a lab rat. Was there any humanity to be seen there, any at all? He could not see it. Then again, he never really did.

"This thing won't open," Pluto growled beside him, snapping him from his thoughts. Gentarou glanced back at him to see him running a hand through his hair in frustration. "And I don't think they can hear us, since we can't hear them," he muttered. "Damn it. There must be a way to open this thing and… what the…?" he paused and stared with wide eyes through the glass wall, inside the room below them. Gentarou followed his gaze to the far end of the room… and immediately realized what the problem was.

There was something sticking from the wall, several things that looked far too much like shower heads… exactly like the things that had been in the cabin Gentarou had awakened into. And, just like that one… they were all spewing out gas at a terribly fast rate, much faster than when he had been into the cabin. Unless they did something about it _now_, the whole room would be filled with gas in minutes.

"Shit," Gentarou heard himself saying, and he took a step back, head spinning. So it truly was a deathly trap, he thought, Venus and Mercury could be killed right then… and he had known, he had _guessed_, and had done nothing to stop them. He had let two people walk into a deadly trap without saying a word to stop them. If they were to die now, he would have had a hand in that. He would have been as guilty as whoever had set up that game.

And he felt nothing about it but a sense of euphoria, that of someone who has just scored an extremely important point to victory. And in a way he had, hadn't he?

_If they die, I'll have more chances to live._

"We've got to find the key," he heard himself saying, his own voice eerily calm. "If we can turn on the control panel, then maybe we can open the shutter and get them out."

Pluto nodded. "You're right. We don't have one moment to lose – unless we get them out of there quickly, they… where are they _going_?" he asked in confusion when both Venus and Mercury suddenly ran down the stairs and into the surgery room, and Gentarou knew exactly why one moment before they reached the operation table where the unconscious man lay.

The gas mask. They wanted the gas mask.

Whoever had spoken to them on the B deck was right, Gentarou mused: in face of death nothing but one's own safety mattered. Neither Mercury not Venus had any qualms taking the gas mask from an unconscious man they had been eager to help only a minute or so earlier, sentencing him to death so that they could _live_. Had Gentarou been in that man's place they wouldn't have hesitated, either: their will to live by far outweighed any mercy.

But the gas mask was only one, and there were two of them. Gentarou knew in that instant that the trap had been designed so that only one person would come out alive, and that the man on the operating table was not going to be the only one to be killed by the gas: either Mercury or Venus would be killed by the other, for they would fight to the death for that gas mask. They would fight to _live_.

_And so will I._

"Shit! Stop it! No! _Stop_!" Pluto screamed, hitting the glass with both fists, but they could not hear him and probably wouldn't have listened anyway. Both him and Gentarou could only stare, through the thickening mist of gas, the desperate fight beneath them. It was vicious, but quick and soundless, and witnessing it felt so surreal to watch that Gentarou had to briefly wonder if he was dreaming, after all.

Venus managed to make it to the operating table first, and tore the gas mask off the man's – anonymous, yet again – face. Even though there were no openings in the room, she tried to run away with it. She didn't go far, of course: Mercury was on her the next moment, grabbed her by her hair and threw her against the wall. He tried to tear the mask form her hands, and she managed to hold it for a few moments before he finally took it from her and turned to run away – but where to? – while fumbling to put the mask on.

But Venus was not willing to give up, not yet. Gentarou stared with wide eyes as her hand reached to grab something from the operating table – where the unknown man had not even stirred – and then flung herself at Mercury's back.

Mercury screamed. Gentarou could not hear his scream, he could not hear anything but his own blood rushing in his ears, but he could see him throwing back his head, his mouth open in a cry, the mask falling from his hands. He could see the reason why the moment Mercury turned to face Venus: there was something sticking from his back, and the back of his gray shirt was quickly turning deep red with blood.

He only got one glance: the next moment Mercury had thrown himself at Venus, and the two of them were on the ground, struggling and trying to hit each other and get to the gas mask at the same time. Through the thickening gas it was harder and harder to see what was happening, but they still could see Mercury grabbing a hold of Venus' head and slamming her skull against the floor – once, twice, thrice – until the white tiles had turned red and she moved no more.

They could see a human form – Mercury – dragging itself across the ground, a bloodied hand reaching for the black gas mask.

Then there was nothing but whiteness.

For what felt like hours but were actually only a few minutes, Gentarou and Pluto stood there in stunned silence. Neither of them could tear their eyes away from the blinding whiteness, the events they had just witnessed replying Gentarou's mind over and over and over.

Venus was dead. He had no doubt about that: her skull had been crushed. And Mercury… would he survive the wound? _Could_ he survive that, a scalpel lodged into his back all the way to the handle?

Gentarou drew in a shaky breath. With the mind's eye, he saw himself only minutes earlier. He saw himself doing what he had not done: calling out for them, telling them to wait, that it could be a trap; he saw them stopping in their tracks, confused but willing to give him heed – would they have listened to him if he had tried to stop them? They probably would have. They would have listened. They wouldn't have just walked in. They wouldn't have killed each other to live. They would be alive.

And ready to kill _him_ instead, if the need arose.

Gentarou clenched his jaw, recalling what the voice had told them only a few hours earlier.

_Oh, we'll see how much you care for children once the game has started. You'll find out just how powerful survival instinct is, how nothing matters in the face of death._

That memory would have been enough to chase away any kind of remorse, had he felt any. And he did not. It was a matter of killing or being killed; why should he have saved them? Why run the risk of being the one to lie on the floor with a split skull or a scalpel lodged in his flesh? Why-?

His musing was cut short by a sudden beeping sound. Both him and Pluto turned to see that the monitor had suddenly turned on, the monitor flickering to life and words appearing on it.

"Wha… how…?" Pluto spoke, his voice hoarse as though it hadn't been used in a long time. "We didn't find the key. How-" he trailed off, as though he had figured out the answer by himself. "Oh… oh, God. Oh my God. So… so that's it? No key was needed – just someone's death? Is that _it_?" he asked to no one in particular, his voice suddenly louder and higher; the voice of a man one step away from breaking down.

Gentarou, on the other hand… felt nothing.

_Nothing_.

"There is something written on the monitor," he said, taking a few steps closer to the control panel. There were only two words, written in black on a green background.

INSERT PASSWORD.

Beneath those words, there were seven dots. Gentarou opened his mouth to tell Pluto they needed a password to open the door, but closed it when Pluto spoke up again.

"Oh, _Christ_."

He didn't sound amused. At all. Gentarou glanced back to see he was once again pressed against the glass wall… and that the gas was far less thick than it had been only moments before. "What…?" he muttered, approaching the glass wall as well. Had he looked up, he could have seen the vents that had opened in the ceiling to take the gas out of the room… but all he could look at was the scene inside the room above them.

The man on the operation table was as motionless as before, but his stillness was not caused by unconsciousness anymore: his chest was still, his skin white as wax. He was dead, no doubt about it.

On the floor, not far from the operating table, was Venus. She lay on her back, arms splayed in awkward directions. Her eyes were open and stared sightlessly at the ceiling, and there was blood on the floor around her head, matting her hair; trickles of blood came from her nose and half-open mouth. Her skull had cracked against the tiles, and there was no doubt that she was dead. And, a few feet from her, was Mercury.

"God," Pluto murmured, his skin ashen.

He had managed to reach the gas mask and put it on, but it had not been enough to save him. He lay on his side, completely motionless, into a pool of dark red blood; one bloodied hand still rested on the gas mask to keep it in place, but it was limp, and still. It looked like the wound had claimed his life as he had claimed Venus', Gentarou thought… then again, could he just be unconscious?

The thought made him uneasy far more than death. Even if he was alive, he was still fatally wounded and had lost too much blood: there was no way he could move, nor could they move him without making it worse… not to mention he would slow them down. So it would be a matter of either leaving him behind, or finishing him. And Gentarou could not picture himself ending him. He could not. Walking away would be easier, he decided. Then again, was that even an issue now? They couldn't even reach them, and… damn, what if one of them had key card [4]? How could he get out with Nagisa and Teruaki without that card?

"Perhaps Mercury is still alive," Pluto finally spoke, his voice shaking just slightly. He didn't spare a word for Venus, but that was to be expected: she was clearly dead, and there was nothing they could possibly do for her. Nor could they blame Mercury for killing her, as they could not blame her for stabbing him: they both just wanted to survive. Had they been anything more than faceless strangers to him, Gentarou may have truly felt sorry for their fate. But right now, all he could think of was they key cards. He was rather sure he had seen Mercury taking a key card before they headed through door [8], while Venus took another, but he could not tell which one. And, since there was no way to ask Pluto without sounding suspicious, he decided that he had to find a way to check Mercury's body. He _had_ to. But how…?

As though to answer the unexpressed question, there was a sudden metallic groan and the shutter began going up. Both Gentarou and Pluto stared in silence until it disappeared once again, as though it had never been, leaving the opening free to pass through. "Do you think it's another trap?" Gentarou murmured.

Pluto shook his head. "I don't know. It could be, but… we have to check if at least Mercury is still alive."

Gentarou licked his dry lips. "If he is, what then?" he asked, and for the first time his voice shook. "He doesn't look like we could… you know."

Pluto sighed. "Then we finish him," he said, his voice tight. "We should use him at least this mercy. I'll do it, if it comes to it. But we cannot leave him like that if he's alive."

Gentarou had a moment to wonder how much Mercury and Venus' key cards may have to do with his _mercy_, but he had no time to ask anything: the next moment, Pluto was looking around. His gaze fell onto a small, sturdy-looking metal table. "Help me move this," he said, walking up to it. "If we put it in the doorway, it will keep the shutter from going down all the way should it shut. I'd at least have enough space to come out."

"You?" Gentarou repeated, helping him move the table where he had instructed.

Pluto gave a weak smile. "I'd rather have you stay here. You're just a boy. I don't want you to see… _that_… too closely if we can avoid it."

Gentarou had no intention to let him in alone, for he had all intentions to try getting his hands on at least a key card and possibly on a scalpel, but nodded nonetheless: if anything, he could let him go first to see if it was, indeed, another trap… and if the table they were just done moving in the doorway would be enough to let them out. _Then_ he would go downstairs as well. He didn't love the idea of walking among dead bodies, but what choice did he have?

He watched in silence as Pluto walked through the doorway, and waited for several moments. Nothing happened, and Gentarou finally felt safe enough to follow him down the stairs. His steps on the iron steps caused Pluto, who was almost at the bottom, to look up at him.

"I would have preferred for you to stay upstairs," he said. "This… isn't pleasant."

"I know. I just didn't want to be alone up there," Gentarou replying, playing the card of the poor traumatized boy. In a way, he supposed he was. On one hand he didn't feel much of anything in regards to the death of strangers, but he had never before seeing anyone dying, and had never before seen dead bodies or smelled blood. He did feel a sort of numbness in that regard, and he faintly wondered if it was what people referred to as shock. He was probably running on adrenaline at the moment, he supposed, which would at least partially explain how he could manage to stay relatively lucid in such circumstances.

Pluto sighed and just nodded before walking up to Mercury. While Gentarou watched in slice, he knelt next to him, trying not to touch the blood, and gently took off the gas mask. The moment Mercury's face was revealed, Gentarou knew he was dead. He was deathly pale, and blood had seeped out of his mouth. Pluto put down the gas mask and reached to press two fingers against his neck.

"He's gone," he whispered after a few moments. He reached behind his back, and pulled out the scalpel with a sound of wet meat. That, along with the poignant smell of blood, made Gentarou feel sick for a moment.

"What are you _doing_?" he rasped.

Pluto threw the bloodied scalpel aside before replying. "I want to lay him out," he said, rolling Mercury's body on his back and reaching to take his hands, placing them over his stomach. "Bringing them both upstairs and to the hospital room would be too much of a hassle, but it's no reason to leave them like this."

Gentarou listened to his words, but only barely. His eyes were fixed on something else – the scalpel Pluto had discarded. It had landed close to Venus' body, so it was a matter of moments. He took the scalpel, quickly wiped the blood off on Venus' clothes and, after a moment's hesitation – the thought of killing Pluto did cross his mind, yes, but truth to be told he wasn't sure he could make himself go all the way through – shoved it into his vest's pocket. Then, before Pluto turned, he busied himself into laying out Venus' body so that he wouldn't question what he was doing crouched down like that. Or at least, so he hoped.

"You have a point," he heard himself saying. It was no pleasant task: the body was already growing cold to the touch, and there was blood everywhere. He avoided looking at her face; it was no different from anyone else's to him, but he did not want to see the blood that coated it.

"Check for the key card."

Gentarou blinked and turned to Pluto. "What?" he asked, even though checking for the key card had been his intention all along. Pluto lifted two cards, and Gentarou realized it was Mercury's [1] card and Mars' [4].

"The key cards. We might need them to get out," he said. Gentarou cursed inwardly at his bad luck – of course it _couldn't_ be Venus to have Mars' card, uh? – and just nodded, trying not to let his frustration show.

"Good point," he said, and fought back any repulsion to look into Venus' pockets for the other cards. After all, he reasoned, there may be a chance for him to take that [4] card by force; perhaps the scalpel in his pocket would give him a chance. "Here," he finally said, standing up again. In his hands were Venus' [2] card and Murakami's [8]. As he put both cards in his pocket, but before he could try to figure out if he could use them in any way Pluto spoke up.

"I wonder who that man is."

Gentarou glanced at the operating table, where the dead man was. His face, of course, told him nothing. As usual. "I have absolutely no idea," he said truthfully. He took a step closer to the operating table, and he frowned when he saw there was something next to the man: more scalpels, long rubber gloves, and a folded piece of paper. He frowned and took it. There was something written in the back.

_The key to your freedom is inside this man's stomach; you know what you must do._

For several moments Gentarou could only stare at those words, not comprehending.

_The key to your freedom is inside this man's stomach._

No, he thought numbly. No, it couldn't be. They couldn't expect… couldn't be asking…

_You know what you must do._

Gentarou's head spun. He staggered backwards, his shoes slipping in the pool of blood around Venus' head.

"Hey, look out!"

Gentarou felt an arm wrapping around his shoulders, and a moment later Pluto was steadying him.

"What is it? You're pale as a ghost! What-" he began asking, only to trail off when Gentarou wordlessly help up the piece of paper. He took it, and read.

"God," he whispered once he was done reading. "Who… what kind of sadist…?"

"The kind of sadist that leaves one gas mask for three people and forces two of them to fight to the death," Gentarou heard himself saying, his voice sounding distant to his own ears.

Pluto licked his dry lips before he closed his eyes. He swallowed, then, "Gentarou. Go back upstairs."

"But-"

"I don't want you to see this," Pluto cut him off, his voice more authoritative now. "Please, go upstairs."

Gentarou hesitated for only a moment before nodding and walking upstairs; to be honest, he was not looking forward to looking at the… the procedure. He had two key cards, though neither was the one he needed, and a scalpel to use should the situation ask for it. There was nothing left for him to do down there.

Once upstairs, he did not turn to look back through the glass wall: he had seen enough to last him a lifetime, and was likely to see more before he could get out of that place, or die trying. No, he had no desire to turn back and look.

So he just sat, his back to the wall, and shut his eyes, trying to contemplate what he could possibly do now. He had a weapon to defend himself with now, and he supposed it was something. He also had two key cards aside from his own, [2] and [8], whose digital root amounted to [1]; adding his own key card to them he would get a [6], which would be [9] with Nagisa's [3] added to it. Of course, that would mean leaving Teruaki behind, but if there was no other choice Gentarou was fairly sure Nagisa would be reasonable enough to see it was the only way. Or so he hoped.

With a sigh, Gentarou leant back against the wall, eyes still shut. He had been up and running around that place like a rat through a maze for hours now, and that was the first time he could allow himself a few moments rest back and think. In the whirlwind the last few hours had been, the first question that had come to his mind – who had set that all up, why, and why was _he_ even there? – had been pushed in the back of his mind. Now, five hours and four – no, five; six if he counted the corpse in the freezer – deaths later, he was no closer to an answer.

Why kidnap _him_? He was just a high school student, and his disability aside – one almost no one but his close relatives knew of, and since he had always been very reserved no one had suspected much so far – there was nothing in his life that wasn't… terribly average, at the very least.

Working parents who hoped to see him in college a few years down the road. An apartment. A dog. Public school. Schoolwork. Straight-A student. A few acquaintances to spend some time with when he was especially bored, people he could easily tell apart thanks to their voices and very different hair. A room he'd spend some days locked away into with his books. The everyday frustration of knowing there was a part of people, a part of what _made_ people, that he could not see, could not _know_; something everyone took for granted and that was far above his reach, something that everyone around him had and that he was _cut out of_.

That last thought frizzled out in frustration and a drenching bitterness that welled up from the very pit of his stomach, and he angrily ran a hand through his hair, forcing himself not to think about it. What good could it make him now? It certainly could not explain why he was there. Nothing he could think of explained it.

Nor he could think of a reason to kidnap a middle school student like Nagisa, or a nine years old kid like Teruaki. And his teacher, too: Murakami and Teruaki were the only two people in there who seemed to have a connection to each other, or at least the only ones to admit they had any. Gentarou tried to guess what it could mean, but his mind came up blank.

The idea it could be a social experiment passed through his mind: for a moment it _had_ been reminded of lab rats wandering through a maze, with scientists observing and taking notes of their patterns and behavior for further study. But try as he might, he could not think of a purpose for such an extreme experiment. That complete strangers locked together in the same place would be willing to kill each other to survive certainly was no groundbreaking concept: such behavior had been observed in the past so many times already.

No, it did not seem to be the case. That… that _madness_ had no scientific purpose. Then why…?

The sound of steps coming up the iron stairs snapped Gentarou from his thoughts. He looked up to see Pluto emerging from the room, deathly pale and with something in his hands – two small, spherical objects. There was some more blood than before on Pluto's suit, mixing with Mars' drying one, but the two objects and Pluto's hands had no blood on them. Pluto had to notice his perplexed gaze, for he gave a weak smile.

"There was a bucket of water. And gloves, and towels. Planned out everything, those bastards," he said, his voice tight, and held out to him one of the objects. Gentarou reached to take it, feeling slightly queasy at the thought that small sphere had been inside a man's stomach. It seemed to be made of plastic, and there was a small crack on the surface that cut the thing in half. A bit like the equator did with Earth, Gentarou reasoned.

"I'm pretty sure we can open these," Pluto was adding.

"That seems logical," Gentarou murmured, looking down at the sphere in his own hands. Both him and Pluto took a hold of both halves of their sphere, and turned them in opposite directions. There were two low clacks, and the spheres opened in two, revealing something inside.

"A key," Pluto announced, holding up a small, metal key. "It has the same symbol as the locked door on the A Deck. What's in yours?"

Gentarou did not reply: he held up a small piece of paper that had clearly just been unrolled. "The password," was all he said before turning to the control panel and walking up to it. He reached down to type the name he had just read_—_

G-O-R-D-A-I-N

—and then pressed the enter key. There was a loud beeping sound, and then a clack. The light on the door's lock turned from red to green. They had opened it. Gentarou gave a wry smile. That name again – Gordain.

_We welcome all of you to Gordain's Game – and we wish each of you luck._

But whose name was it? What did it _mean_?

He could wonder no longer, for Pluto gave a loud sigh of relief and reached to take his arm. "Come, let us get out of here. I think I'll go insane if I stay in this place one more moment."

Gentarou nodded and followed him to the door: he had no desire to stay there any longer, either. One moment before the door closed behind him, he turned back to gaze through the glass wall. From that angle he could not see to the dead bodies that lay in that room, but he knew they were there.

It could have been me, he thought. But it hadn't been. He had known better than them. He had _lived_.

And he fully intended on staying alive for a long, long time.

The door closed on the room like the lid of a coffin, but Gentarou was no longer looking back: he was following Pluto through yet another hallway, back to the hospital room and more determinated than ever before to make it out of that accursed ship alive.


	7. The Gamble

Gentarou found himself releasing the breath he had not realized he had been holding when the door opened and he saw the others – Nagisa and Teruaki and Nitro – waiting for them there, none of them missing. He hadn't been worried they could leave the ship and leave them behind since he knew they numbers could not add up to [9], but there had been the lingering doubt in the back of his mind that Nitro could kill them, unlikely as he thought it was by that point.

It appeared that the man had let yet another chance to kill both of them pass by, as Pluto had lost a golden chance to kill _him_. That was no guarantee they wouldn't if they had to, of course, but it served to make Gentarou wonder – who had killed Murakami, then? Mars seemed an unlikely suspect, young and small as she was, and if he took Pluto and Nitro out of the picture, then it had likely been either Mercury or Venus. Mercury, most likely, since his number along with Murakami's was a [9] and all he would have needed to get out was Pluto's own [9].

But if that was the case, why had he not claimed Murakami's card? Why had he taken Mars' number [4]? That card would be useless to him unless he used at least two more cards, and thus either kill two more people or convince them to go with him. Besides, that would rule out the possibility that whoever had killed Murakami knew what was going on: had either Mercury or Venus known that, they certainly would not have rushed into a trap. Or was even that planned? What if-

"What happened? Guys, you're pale as ghosts, and… where are the others?"

Nitro's voice snapped Gentarou from his morbid thoughts. He looked back at him, and Nagisa and Teruaki, and opened his mouth to reply – but, for a few moments, he could not utter anything but broken words. "We… it was… Venus and Mercury…" he paused and licked his dry lips, and for a moment he feared they would somehow know that he could have stopped them from dying, that he had guessed something was wrong and had not said it. It was a ridiculous idea, of course – how could they know? – but being unable to differentiate human faces sometimes left him with the doubt that guilt may be written all over his own face, detectable to anyone but himself.

But perhaps he was simply being paranoid.

Nagisa paled. "What is it? What happened to Venus and Mercury?" he asked, his gaze shifting to Pluto. Teruaki's eyes, on the other hand, did not leave Gentarou: he stared up at him with wide eyes, as though wondering what could have happened in there to make him unable to even utter a sentence.

Pluto sighed. "They're dead."

It was as though he had turned a switch: everyone else suddenly went silent and stared at him. It felt rather surreal, identical faces staring at the same person with wide eyes. It was Nagisa to break the silence.

"But… how…?" he managed to ask. Teruaki shifted closer to him, his eyes darting for a moment to the other end of the room, where Murakami's body lay.

Pluto bit his lower lip. "They fell into… into a trap."

"A trap?" Nitro repeated, sounding incredulous. "What kind of-"

He was cut off by a noise that seemed to come from the very bowels of the ship. They had grown accustomed to the low metallic groans that from time to time reached their ears, but this was different: this was the chiming of the grandfather clock in the main staircase. None of them spoke until the chiming stopped.

"We have three hours left," Pluto said gravely. "There is no time to lose. I trust you did check where the elevators went, did you not?"

Teruaki nodded. "Y-yes. Nagisa and I found a-a numbered door, a-and Nitro f-found another," he said.

"Number [2] and [6]," Nagisa confirmed. "Both are below D Deck, one on E Deck and another on the bottom one. No idea in hell how it's not underwater; it just isn't. But how did Mercury and Venus-" he tried to speak again, but Pluto cut him off.

"We have the key to the door in the A Deck," he told him, taking the key out of his pocket. "By this point we have found numbered doors from [2] to [8]; I strongly suspect we're only missing a Door [1], and that it might be on the A Deck – we have yet to explore beyond that locked door. But we need to move fast. I could go have a quick look behind that door while Gentarou fills you up with what happened. Once I'm back, we decide how to move next. What do you think?"

The others hesitated for a moment, but Gentarou nodded: he knew that there was no way the cards currently in Pluto's possession – [1], [4] and [9] – would allow him to go through any door but Door [5], and he had been through that already. There was no way for him to leave them all behind. "Fine with me," he said quietly. "Let's meet up at C Deck in ten minutes."

And with that, it was settled: Pluto went to check behind the locked door on the A Deck, and Gentarou was left to fill in the others with what had transpired in the laboratory behind Door [8]. Of course, he did not mention how he had noticed the opening on the ceiling, how he had stopped short, having guessed something was wrong, but hasd not called out for Mercury and Venus to do the same; it was nothing they needed to know, after all.

"And when the gas was sucked out, the door opened again. We went downstairs, but they were all dead," he finished. "Mercury and Venus had killed each other, and the man on the table, whoever he was, never woke up. We… found the key Pluto is using right now and the password to get out in the room," he added. After all, there was no need for them to know what Pluto had to do to get both of those things. They were better off not knowing it, especially Teruaki; they needed to hurry up, so last thing they needed now was having him breaking down again.

"So they just… oh, shit. Holy _shit_," Nagisa said, his voice shaking in a way Gentarou hadn't heard it shaking since when they had to break off a hand from the corpse in the freezer. All in all, the other boy had held himself together pretty well up to that point: he hadn't panicked like Teruaki, or lost his shit like Mars seemed to have; now he seemed pretty damn shaken, but it only lasted a few moments and he regained control pretty quickly. "Wasn't there any way to get them out?" he asked.

Gentarou shook his head. "If there was, we didn't find it," he said grimly, but he was inwardly grateful that they hadn't found any way to get them out before it was too late.

_It was me or them. They had to die for me to live. And I have no intention to die._

_None._

There was a brief silence finally broken by Nitro. "Whatever bastard did this… God, that's just sick. Forcing two people into a room like that, with only a gas mask… and that guy, whoever he was, had no way to even save himself… fuck," he groaned and reached up to rub his face somewhat tiredly. "Are the… the bodies still down there?"

"Yes. Getting them upstairs would have been too much of a hassle."

"I see," Nitro sighed, then, "we should move to the staircase. He should be done checking out what's behind the door on A Deck."

Gentarou nodded, and all of them walked out of the hospital room – God, Gentarou hoped he'd never have to go in there again: it was oppressive, to say the least – and headed to the staircase. Nitro walked a little ahead of them, and Gentarou was wondering if he was far enough to be out of earshot when he felt someone tugging at his vest. He glanced down at Teruaki.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice low. He kept an eye on Nitro's back as they walked, and he didn't turn, nor give any sign of having even heard.

"W-what about… what about t-the key cards…?" Teruaki asked in a whisper.

Gentarou glanced back at Nagisa, who nodded. "I filled him in with Murakami's plan," he whispered, keeping an eye on Nitro's back as well. "Do you happen to have…?"

Gentarou mentally cursed him – leaving Teruaki behind may have proven easier if he didn't know of that plan – and shook his head. "Unfortunately not. I have Venus and Murakami's ones. Pluto has the other two."

"Oh," Nagisa murmured, then, "so what now?"

With a quick look at Teruaki, Gentarou dismissed the idea of trying to talk Nagisa into leaving him behind: he got the distinct feeling the child wouldn't take that well. "We'll go through the next doors, and then we'll see," he just said. He chose not to mention the scalpel in his pocket: things could change before that sick game was over, and so could alliances. That weapon, small as it was, would be all he more powerful if kept a secret until the moment he might have to use it.

And, if the situation called for it, he _would_ use it.

Nagisa seemed about to add something else, but by then they had reached the staircase and Pluto was there in wait, so he shut his mouth again. Pluto nodded at them as they approached.

"It's just like I imagined: there is a door with a [1] written on it on the A Deck," he said. "So we have a problem."

Nitro blinked. "A problem? What problem?"

"Well, if we go through all three doors – I'm certain we can do that by using all the cards we have – at least one of us would have to go alone. For at least two people to go through each door there should be six of us, and we are only five. And I don't know about you, but after seeing what kind of traps there can be around here… I don't much like the idea," was Pluto's reply.

Nitro grunted. "You've got a point," he admitted, reaching to scratch the back of his head. "I don't like that, either. I sure don't want to go anywhere alone, let alone have one of the kids going alone anywhere."

For a moment Gentarou wondered how _stupid_ could they be. They knew not all of them could get out, they _had_ to know it, and yet there they were, worrying over their safety. What was the point? Why would they even worry about complete strangers who were competitors for survival? Gentarou didn't understand that, didn't understand _them_; a feeling that somewhat managed to be both infuriating and frightening.

Then again, he reasoned, that was good for him. Hadn't they been so ridiculously well-intentioned, neither him nor Nagisa or Teruaki would have lived long in that game; as long as their stupidity kept him alive, he could not complain. He pushed those thoughts in the back of his mind and spoke up.

"Then we should go through two of the doors first, and then go through the third one if needed," he reasoned.

Teruaki frowned. "B-but we have l-little time, and…"

"Do you want to go through a door alone?" Gentarou asked harshly, causing the kid to cringe and shut his mouth.

"Gentarou has a point," Pluto said. "I don't like the idea of wasting time any more than you do, but I like the idea of letting anyone go behind a door on their own even less. What do you think?" he asked, turning to Nagisa.

The boy nodded. "I agree," he said, turning to Gentarou just a fraction, and Gentarou knew what he was thinking: if they were separated, hell knew when they could discuss their next move away both Pluto and Nitro.

Pluto seemed satisfied. "That's good. Now, we need to pick the doors. Which ones would you suggest?"

Nitro reached up to rub his chin. "How about door [2] and [6]? They're on decks that are one above the other, and chances are that we'll come out in the same place again, or at least close to each other. Going into two decks so far away from each other doesn't sound like a bright idea to me."

"Makes sense," Pluto conceded. "Kids?"

Gentarou ignored the pang of annoyance at being called 'kid' and spoke for all three of them. "Fine with us," he said, trying to think of a satisfying combination quickly. And, thankfully, it was not too hard. "You and Nitro could go through Door [2]. You could use Mars' card – Pluto has it. I have Murakami and Venus' cards instead, and if we add them to our own the digital root will be [6]. What do you think?"

Nitro seemed to hesitate. "The three of you alone? Are you sure?" he asked, sounding doubtful. That was enough for Gentarou to narrow his eyes in suspicion. He probably knew that Nagisa and himself had the cards they needed to go through Door [9] by themselves if they only left Teruaki behind; was he worried about that? Would he try to break them apart so that they could not leave should they reach Door [9] first?

He tried to hide all of the suspicion he felt and smile. "We'll be fine," he said. "We made a pretty fine team so far, didn't we?"

Pluto frowned as well. "But so far there was always an adult with you," he pointed out. "With such traps around, it might be dangerous to-"

"Mercury and Venus were both adults, and yet they fell for a trap," Gentarou pointed out, a little more coldly that he wanted to sound. "Age won't make whatever this damn game has in store for us any more or less dangerous than it is."

Nitro seemed about to speak again, but Nagisa spoke first.

"I agree with Gentarou," he said. "We did well so far. We can take whatever is next. As he said, we make a good team – and why change a winning team? Besides, Teruaki wants to stay with us," he added, reaching to put a hand on the younger boy's shoulder. "Right?"

Teruaki nodded. "R-right," he said, looking up at the two men. "L-let me w-with them. P-please."

"See? It's a win-win. We get through both doors, and Teruaki gets to be with Gentarou and me," Nagisa pressed on. "But if you don't like the idea, I'd say you should come up with another way quickly – because time sure isn't going backwards for us."

In the end, that reasoning was what truly won them the argument. Nitro was a bit more reluctant than Pluto in letting the three of them go through Door [6] together, but in the end he relented.

"Be careful," he called out one moment before the door closed behind them. But Gentarou was certain he was not truly worried for them: why _should_ he be worried about complete strangers who were nothing but competitors for survival? No, he wasn't worried for them: he was worried for himself, because no number combination of the cards he and Pluto had could have a digital root of [9]. Therefore, if the three of them didn't survive whatever lay beyond Door [6]… then neither them could leave the ship, and they would sink with it as well.

But that was a scenario Gentarou was not willing to consider. They would not die there – _he_ would not die there. He refused to. He would live through whatever waited for them, he would live long enough to reach Door [9]… and he would get through it, come what may.

His hand reached to his vest's pocket, and he felt reassured when his fingers met the handle of the scalpel he had stolen from the laboratory. There it was – his only insurance should something go wrong. It was not much, especially since both Pluto and Nitro had a chance of getting similar weapons and thus likely had, but… it was better than going unarmed, and it was somewhat reassuring knowing he wouldn't be completely helpless should he need to defend himself.

"What now?" Nagisa's voice reached him, snapping him from his morbid thoughts. He turned to see him standing a little ahead of him, in the middle of the short hallway they were into. Teruaki stood by his side, silent as he was most of the time. "They have card number [4], don't they?"

Gentarou grimaced. "Unfortunately, yes," he said. "Mercury had it, and Pluto searched him first. I searched Venus, and she had Murakami's. Aside from her own, of course," he added, starting to walk down the hallway. No point in wasting time, he reasoned.

"So we'll have to get Mars' card from them," Nagisa muttered. "Man, this isn't looking good."

It definitely was not a good moment to suggest leaving Teruaki behind, Gentarou decided. He wasn't truly uncomfortable with the idea: if it turned out to be his only way out, he was ready to do it. But he needed to convince Nagisa, and he could not tell how much convincing it would take – people could be some ridiculously _sentimental_ – and he sure couldn't come up with it in front of Teruaki: he would certainly panic, perhaps struggle, and… and he didn't think he could just take out the scalpel and kill him. Leave the child behind, yes, but stab him to death? He wasn't sure. As he wasn't sure, thinking back, that he really could have tried to kill Pluto back in the laboratory, sticking the scalpel in the back of his neck when he could do it.

A part of him regretted not taking that chance now – had he done that he could have taken card [4] and would have had only one competitor left for survival – but he still didn't know if he truly could bring himself to do it had he tried. Killing someone in a struggle for survival would be one thing, but killing a man with a stab in the back while he still had done nothing to him… would he have been able to go that far to survive?

Gentarou wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to that. So in the end he just decided to delay that talk for a moment when he'd be alone with Nagisa and turned his attention back to the subject at hand: Nitro, Pluto, and Mars' card.

"We can still try to get Pluto on our side, as Murakami suggested," he reasoned and they began walking down a flight of stairs leading them further down the ship. "He has Mars' [4] card, and his number is [9] – so it won't change the digital root, and he could come with us. Why shouldn't he agree? Why would he leave the three of us behind instead of Nitro?"

Nagisa seemed relieved by that thought. "You're right. Pluto has everything to gain in coming with us, too. I feel bad for Nitro, but-" he suddenly trailed off, and frowned.

"What is it?"

The other boy bit his lower lip. "What if Nitro realizes this? What if he kills Pluto and take the cards to keep us from leaving him behind? There is no possible combination that would allow all three of us to get out of here with him!"

That was true, Gentarou realized. While Nitro hadn't killed anyone when he had a chance, he likely _would_ resort to murder once it was clear he had no choice. What if they made it out to be confronted with Nitro alone, determinated to get any card he needed to open door [9] from them?

That wasn't a scenario Gentarou liked. At all. "We'll have to think of a way. I'm sure we'll come up with something. We may need a weapon," he added. For a moment he was tempted to tell them about the ace he had up his sleeve – the scalpel – but he decided against it. Let it be his secret for now, he thought. He had decided to keep that information for himself for time being, and he would.

He expected Nagisa to reply, but it wasn't him to speak again: it was Teruaki.

"I-I… I, uhm… I…" he began, and then fell silent. Both Gentarou and Nagisa, who had been walking slightly ahead down the stairs, turned to glance at him, and he cringed.

"What is it?" Gentarou asked, trying to keep his voice pleasant.

The little boy's eyes stared at him first and then at Nagisa, huge behind thick lenses, then he swallowed and shook his head. "A-ah, I… n-nothing. It was nothing," he murmured. There was something shifty about that, but Gentarou didn't give it much thought: what could he have to say of any importance, after all? Nothing, that was what.

"I'd say it would be for the best if we just focused in getting out of this room alive first; we'll worry about Door [9] later," he said, turning to walk down the rest of the stairs and coming to a stop in front of a large iron door, with a bar to work as a handle. He put a hand on it and, after a moment's hesitation, pushed it down to open the door. It opened with a drawn-out metallic groan and, for a few moments, none of them said anything.

They were too stunned to.

* * *

"This is it, Kagechika – your bet is doomed. As are the other two kids."

The laugh that resounded in the lounge only got a raised brow out of Musashidou. "Is that so, Takahashi?" he asked quietly, his thoughtful gaze not leaving the screen showing what was happening behind Door [6]. Nothing much was going on yet – the boys were only looking around the place – but he knew that would change as soon as they went upstairs and decided to explore the catwalk.

A snort. "Are you serious? They're just children, and they picked Door [6]! It's the one that killed most people so far. What makes you think they have a chance?"

Musashidou chuckled. "You should hope so, though. If they do not make it out of there, the other two will be stuck as well."

"You know how it works in cases like this – the ones to win are the last ones to die," the other man reminded him. "And in this case, I think the outcome is pretty clear. All odds are against them. You can still change your bet, you know," he added with a sly smirk.

A smirk Musashidou immediately returned. "Yes, I do think I'll change my bet," he said, finishing his drink and then turning to the others. "My bet is on all three of them now. Take note of that!"

His words caused the quiet talking and speculating that had been going on in the lounge go quiet at once. Several pairs of eyes turned to him in confusion.

"All three of them?" A tall, elegant woman – Ms. Sato, Musashidou remembered her name being – asked with a doubtful tone. "You do know the rule on multiple bets, right? If one of them wins, the money you get out of it would only be a third than-"

Musashidou shook his head. "No, no, I don't think you understand. I'm not betting on one of the three winning the game – I'm betting _on all_ three of them winning. I bet on the team, so to speak, not on the players. If all three of them make it out, I win. If even one of them _doesn't_, then I lose. What do you think?"

Another brief silence.

"You're insane," Takahashi stated plainly. "This bet has even less chances of being successful that the previous one."

Musashidou only shot him a bored look before glancing back to Ms. Sato. "Is it against the rules, or is it not?" he just asked. Clearly, Takahashi failed to grasp where the fun of gambling lay; how could he gain any satisfaction by playing on the safe side all the time, never taking risks against the odds?

There were a few moments of murmuring and deliberation before Ms. Sato shook her head. "No. While certainly not recommended, a such bet is no breach to the rules. But keep it in mind that you cannot change your bet again after-"

With a laugh, Musashidou lifted his glass, gesturing for the waiter to fill it up again. "Wonderful. It is set, then," he said lightly before glancing back at the screen, the smirk still on his lips.

Now the fun part could truly begin.


	8. Door 6

"HELLO!"

Gentarou grimaced at Nagisa's cry and reached up to cover his right ear. "What was that for?" he asked irritably.

The other boy shrugged. "Just checking if there's an echo. This place is huge."

Well, that was something Gentarou had to agree with him onto: the room they were currently into was by far the largest one they had yet seen on that ship. It was entirely made of metal, with what looked like a huge furnace in the middle, a conveyer belt all around it, metal stairs and a catwalk right above them.

"I-it looks like t-the furnace room," Teruaki muttered, still standing way too close to them for Gentarou's tastes. He knew it was understandable – he was so young and felt lost and would cling with those he thought he would be safe with – but was Gentarou supposed to speak to Nagisa alone if he kept clinging to them like that?

"Good call, Captain Obvious," Gentarou said dryly. "No wonder it's this huge – this ship must be enormous," he commented. "And it seems to be straight from last century. And whoever set this madness up is ready to sink it. They must be filthy rich."

"Well, they could as well have used that money for a good psychiatrist," Nagisa snarled. "This is just so fucking _sick_. Why would anyone- what is it?" he asked when Gentarou suddenly walked past him and to a small flight of metal stairs on the far wall.

"A door," was all Gentarou said, walking up the steps two at time. There was a metal door on the wall, but of course – it was locked, and no key was in the keyhole. Not that Gentarou had expected otherwise, but still. He sighed and turned to glance to another flight of metal stairs, one that led to the catwalk above the room. "That's the only way we can go," he said. "There is a key we need to find, apparently."

"Nothing new, then," Nagisa grumbled. "Looking for keys is all that we've been doing for the past… what the _hell_?"

Gentarou didn't need to ask him what it was: they both had noticed them at the same time.

Crates. Dozens and dozens of huge wooden crates hanging above the catwalk, swinging even so slightly – ready to fall down on the metal catwalk below it and crush whatever, or whoever, could be unlucky or foolish enough to stand there.

"That," Gentarou said deadpanned, "looks all the world like one big fucking deadly trap."

"Don't make me call you Captain Obvious now," Nagisa muttered. "Okay, how about we, uh… look for whatever key we need down here first? Before we even try going up there?"

Gentarou could in all honesty say he had never agreed more with anything he had ever heard in his life.

The search was quick but accurate, and they left no possible hiding place for the key unexplored; being the smallest one, Teruaki was picked to crawl into the furnace with a box of matches they had found lying around. He crawled back out after several minutes with clothes, hands and face blackened with coal and looking rather unhappy about it… but without any key.

Soon enough, it was clear that they had no choice: the only place they had not searched yet was the catwalk, and if they were to leave that place they had no choice but going up on it.

"Those bastards," Gentarou seethed. How hilarious it had to be for them, he mused – letting them easily guess they were about to have to walk into a trap and leaving them no way to possibly avoid going through it. He glared upwards, to the ceiling, and spotted it almost immediately – the camera pointing down towards them. And there were others, that much was for sure, most likely pointed on the catwalk itself so that whoever was on the other side eating caviar and drinking champagne could better see the crates crushing them, their bones breaking and blood and brains being spilled on the metal floor.

Before he even realized it, Gentarou was screaming at the camera with such force that his throat hurt.

"Are you having fun, you bastards? _Are you fucking enjoying the show?_ ARE YOU?" he all but roared, causing both Nagisa and Teruaki to recoil. He was about to scream something else, but then Nagisa stepped forward and grabbed his shoulder.

"Don't let them get even more amusement out of y-" he began, only to trail off when something reached their ears – the faint echo of Gentarou's screams.

For a few moments they stayed perfectly silent, all of them. It was Teruaki the first one to speak. "W-well, that answers N-Nagisa's question. T-there _is_ an echo," he said, looking up at the ceiling.

Gentarou glanced down at him, then at Nagisa. Nagisa stared back, and his lips were definitely starting to curl upwards, and then…

"Hah..."

"Heh..."

"Pfftt…"

They began laughing at the same moment, so hard that for a few moments Gentarou had to bend slightly forward, hands on his knees. It wasn't a _right_ kind of laugh, he knew that much, and Teruaki's sounded more like a nervous chuckle, but it felt good and relieving for a reason he could not quite define. Endorphins, he would think later – an endogenous morphine that worked as a neurotransmitter, released by the brain with laughter. Yes, that may have something to do with the brief sense of well-being that followed the moment of hilarity. He could not complain: it did allow him to relieve some of the stress, after all.

And hell knew how much he needed it.

_Good to know that my brain works just fine at least in this regard._

The thought helped him sober up at last. He drew in a deep breath and cleared his throat before standing upright again. Nagisa and Teruaki were stopping as well now, though both of them kept chuckling for a few more moments. Teruaki had taken off his glasses to wipe off some laughter-induced tears that had left streaks on his coal-blackened face, and was now looking without much success for a clean part of his striped shirt he could use to wipe his glasses clean with.

Nagisa held out his hand, reaching into his pocket for a tissue with the other. "Give me those," he said, and Teruaki handed him the glasses. Nagisa quickly cleaned the lenses with the tissue before handing the glassed back to the child. "Here. You're going to need to see well once we're up there," he said.

"T-thanks," Teruaki murmured, putting them back on. He looked up at the catwalk. "So… w-what now?"

Gentarou looked up as well. "Now we go ahead. Not much choice there. Unless only one of us goes," he added, glancing back at the other two. "We will need to come back here for this door, after all," he added.

Nagisa didn't seem entirely convinced. "But if only one person goes there and the crates… fall, and this person gets wounded, then there should be someone else to help them out," he said, and all of a sudden Gentarou realized that was what he had been waiting for – the perfect chance to speak to Nagisa alone, where Teruaki could not hear them. He glanced down at the child and forced himself to smile. "How about you wait for us at the door?" he suggested, trying to sound casual.

Teruaki's gaze shifted from him to Nagisa and then back to him. He was biting his lower lip. "B-but… I d-don't want to stay a-alone here," he tried to protest, his voice strained. His eyes shot through the room anxiously, as though he feared something may leap out from every corner.

"Hey, we won't be too far – right above your head," Gentarou said, trying his best to sound reassuring and not to snap at that pathetic crybaby to just do as he said. "Besides, it's safer for you to stay down here. We promised Murakami we'd bring you out of here, after all," he added, knowing that would strike a chord.

"He's got a point," Nagisa spoke up, reaching down to ruffle Teruaki's already impossible hair. "We'll likely need to run up there, rabbit boy, and I'm pretty sure Gentarou and I are quicker on our feet than you are. And the catwalk seems too narrow for the three of us to run side by side. Just wait for us here, okay? We'll be back in a heartbeat with the key to open that door."

Teruaki hesitated for a few more moments, and Gentarou was very close to losing his patience and snapping when he finally nodded slowly. "O-okay. So I j-just… wait for you here a-and you'll be b-back soon, r-right?"

Gentarou grinned down at him. "As Nagisa said, in a heartbeat," he said, patting the boy's shoulder. He nodded at Nagisa. "Let's go. No point in wasting energy, so let's just walk and keep walking unless… something happens. _Then_ we run."

Nagisa sighed. "Well, isn't that a master plan," he muttered.

"If you have _any_ other idea…" Gentarou said dryly.

"You know I don't," Nagisa grumbled, but he tried to give Teruaki a reassuring smile. "We'll be right back. Stay where you are and call out of you need something, okay?"

"O-o-okay."

He didn't stay right in front of the door, though: Gentarou noticed he followed them down the stairs, only to sit on the first step as he and Nagisa went to walk up the other stairs – the ones leading up to the catwalk.

"I really, really don't want to do this," Nagisa murmured as they climbed up, warily staring up at the large wooden crates swinging lightly above the catwalk.

"You could have stayed back with Teruaki," Gentarou replied.

"And leave everything in your hands? Hardly," the other boy replied with a small chuckle, elbowing him in the ribs lightly.

Gentarou snorted. "I can't recall _you_ getting a key card off a corpse's hand, or unlocking a door by flushing a toilet, or-"

A sudden whirring noise cut him off mid-sentence just as they reached the last step. They both looked up to see that the crates above them were now moving above them, and all around the catwalk – a long line of slowly moving crates.

"What the _hell_?" Nagisa blurted out.

Gentarou frowned. "I think they're hooked to some kind of conveyer belt," he said slowly, warily eyeing them. He took a few steps on the catwalk, his whole body tense and ready to leap out of the way should any crate come crashing down.

Nothing happened.

Of course, that didn't mean they were safe: they could fall on them any moment. Still, he now could see there were openings – three doors on one side of the catwalk, leading into the furnace. Perhaps they could find shelter there, he reasoned, hoping it was not a trap within the trap. He glanced at Nagisa.

"Let's get walking and try the doors. Walk quickly, and if something falls-"

"Then we run. I know," Nagisa muttered, and drew in a deep breath before stepping by Gentarou's side. "Okay, ready."

They began walking to the doors, as quickly as they could without jogging, eying the crates moving above them. Damn, they truly were large and heavy looking, potentially lethal should they fall on them. But as they got closer and closer to the doors, and then tried the first one – locked – Gentarou felt some of the worry waning and glanced sideways at Nagisa. If he didn't take that chance to explain him they could have to leave Teruaki behind, he thought, he might never get another one.

"Listen, there is something I think we should disc-"

He was cut off mid-sentence by a sudden clicking noise, and a moment later the whole room beneath the catwalk fell into darkness: only the catwalk itself stayed lit by several lights pointed to it. For one insane moment Gentarou almost felt like he was on stage – only that he was in a way, was he not, running around like a headless chicken for someone else's amusement? – then that thought was wiped away by a terrified shriek coming from the darkness beneath them, and then the sound of someone running up metal stairs.

Teruaki.

"_Gentarou! Nagisa! Wait!"_

"Shit!" Nagisa cursed, and Gentarou realized that the whirring noise was growing louder, the crates moving faster and faster above their heads, swinging back and fort. "Teruaki, no! Go back down! There's no danger there – _go back down_!"

But it was no use, for in his blind terror Teruaki was beyond listening, perhaps even beyond _hearing_ him: all he was able to process now was that safety lay with them, and thus he wanted nothing but reaching the only two people in that nightmare ship Miss Murakami had said would look after him. Only instants later he was on top of the stairs and was running to them, so fast it seemed almost surreal. He had almost reached them in mere seconds, he was so close now, so close he could almost reach for them…

… and then the first crate fell.

It fell right on the spot Teruaki had been only one instant earlier, its bang deafening, pieces of wood flying in all directions. Gentarou didn't even register the hit on his forehead, didn't even register the warm stickiness of blood – all that he knew was that more crates were falling and they had to get to the first open door he could find _now_.

"Move, move, _move_!" he cried out, and another crate crashed on the catwalk just as he and Nagisa sprang forward, then another, and another. The noise of crashing wooden crates on the metal catwalk was deafening and all around them, and those few seconds seemed to last an eternity. Then there was a cry, a child's cry, and Gentarou was about to turn back to see what had happened to Teruaki – but as he did, he caught side of another crate falling… just above them. He opened his mouth to shout a warning, but he had no time to and simply slammed into Nagisa's shoulder instead, sending him sprawling against the right side of the catwalk just a moment before a crate crashed with a deafening sound on the spot they had been instants before.

Nagisa's cry of pain reached his ears the same moment as yet another crash, but he paid no heed to either: he knew that the crates were still moving above them and ready to fall. They had to move. He stood, grabbed Nagisa's arm and pulled him to his feet, deaf to his choked scream, to drag him to the closest door, the third one, as fast as he could. His free hand took a hold of the round handle, and he turned it with all his strength.

_Oh God let it open don't let it be locked please please please—_

The door opened.

_Yes!_

He threw the door open and pushed Nagisa in first, and then leapt through the opening as well one moment before a crate fell where he had been standing. Gentarou let himself fall on his hands and knees and drew in long, shaky breaths, listening to the crashing noises still coming from outside. They were still on the catwalk, but the roof of the furnace was above them and no crates could fall on them. They were safe, for a time.

He wondered what had happened to Teruaki. Had he been hit? Had he fallen off the catwalk? Was he… dead?

The thought came almost as a relief. He wasn't glad for that, but at the same time… it did make things easier for him and Nagisa, making them able to go through Door [9] together. And now he wouldn't even have to talk him into leaving the child behind, so-

As the crashing noses coming from outside stopped and the whirring noise of the conveyer belt came to a halt, another noise Gentarou had not heard before reached his ears, causing him to look up from the floor.

Sobbing.

And it came from the lump on the floor right ahead of him that was Nagisa; he could barely even see him in the dim light coming from outside, but he was clearly shuddering, and the sound of crying wasn't one to be easily mistaken. All of a sudden, Gentarou was reminded of something he had seen in a documentary once: a huge wall of ice collapsing into the sea. It had been quick: one moment there had been an apparently unmovable wall of white, white ice that looked as though it would stand forever… and yet, the next moment half of it was collapsing into the sea with little to no warning sign. It had just… crumbled. And so had Nagisa.

For the first time, Gentarou truly felt at a loss. He felt as though he should have been prepared for far more than just someone crying by that point, but that wasn't just _someone_ – it was the person he had relied onto the most through that sick game, someone who had been capable to keep a cool head and with whom he could discuss what their next move would be. He was the only person he had thought of as his ally through that nightmare.

Gentarou angrily shook his head. No, damn him, he couldn't let himself be reduced into a sobbing mess! He _needed_ his help – he couldn't make it out all on his own!

"Nagisa," he heard himself calling out, his voice raspy. "Stop. Stop that. We're alright, it's alri-"

Nagisa let out a wounded animal's cry and lifted himself on his knees. "SHUT UP!"

Gentarou shut his mouth, taken aback, and he only then noticed the way Nagisa was clutching his left arm, remembered how he had screamed when he had grabbed that same arm to shove him to safety.

"It's not alright!" Nagisa choked out. "It's not! Nothing is fucking _right_! This is just so damn _wrong_, so don't you… GODDAMNIT!"

The last word came out as more of a sob than a cry, and Nagisa was leaning back against the side of the furnace, still clutching at his arm. Gentarou bit his lower lip.

"Is it broken?" he asked quietly after a few moments.

Nagisa sniffled, still breathing heavily, but he seemed to be calming down. "I… I think so. It hurts like hell," he choked out, finally turning to look at him; in the dim light Gentarou could see his face was tear-streaked, and a bruise was starting to form on his cheek. "You… damn, you didn't make it unscathed either," Nagisa added.

"Wha…?" Gentarou asked, instinctively reached up to touch his forehead, and he felt something warm and slick under his fingertips. He looked down at his hand.

Blood.

"Well, damn," he muttered, and was about to add something else, but someone else spoke first… and it was not Nagisa.

"H-help! S-someone! Help!"

Gentarou blinked. "Teruaki?" he called out, surprise plain in his voice. Was he still alive? How _could_ he be alive? Had he found cover as well?

Nagisa painfully stood and walked to the doorway to peer outside, and so did Gentarou. They let their gazes wander on the catwalk… and saw nobody. "Teruaki?" Nagisa called out, his voice a little less shaky than until a minute before. "Where _are_ you?"

"O-over here!"

Gentarou tried to follow the voice, and found himself staring in silence for a moment when he finally saw the child, or at least the only part of him visible from there through the remains of the crates that cluttered the catwalk – his hands. Grasping the side of the rails. Gentarou's guess that he may have fallen off the catwalk had been correct, apparently, but only partially: he was _hanging_ from the damn catwalk.

His first reaction was a stab of disappointment. He would have taken no pleasure in his death, of course – again, why would he? – but he had hoped that the choice on whether they should leave him behind or not had been taken out of his hands. And yet there he was, the damn kid – so weak and frail and pathetic, and yet so determined to _live_.

"Damn," Nagisa gritted out through clenched teeth, then, "look, the crates have stopped falling – can you pull yourself up?"

"I c-c-can't," Teruaki whimpered, his voice shaking even more than usual with effort and terror while he desperately clung to the rail. "H-help me! Please! Help!"

The thought of leaving him behind _did_ cross Gentarou's mind, but Nagisa's next words were enough for him to realize it was not an option, not unless it proved to truly be necessary.

"Hang in there, we're coming!"

"Where do you think you're going?" Gentarou snapped. "You have a broken arm, idiot! You'd be useless and only get in the way and… what?" he asked when he noticed that Nagisa's pale, still tear-stricken and anonymous face was twisting into a lopsided smirk.

"Oh, I said 'we'? Sorry, Boss. I meant _you_," he said before turning back to Teruaki's direction. "Hang in there, okay? Gentarou is coming to pull you up!"

Gentarou snorted. That sneaky son of a bitch, he thought. "Well, thanks for your trust," he grumbled before glancing up. There were still several crates up there, ready to come crashing down any second, but they were still now, and several spots were empty. He could move through the empty spaces between crates, but what truly worried him was the one right above the spot where the child was currently hanging: if it were to fall – if someone made it fall – while he was trying to hoist him up, both of them would be crushed… or he would be crushed and Teruaki would fall to his death, which wasn't a much better scenario.

Then again, if he did _not_ get crushed and Teruaki _still_ fell to his death… he was such a nervous child, and so terrified… if he squirmed losing his grip would be so easy, so very easy, and no one would blame him for losing grip and from his angle Nagisa wouldn't see if Teruaki truly _had_ squirmed…

Would he really do it? _Could_ he really do it?

_Only one way to find out._

"Teruaki!" Gentarou called out, his voice calm and firm. "See the one above you? I can't get you if you're beneath that! You have to move aside! Try sliding on your left, there's an empty space there. Get there and don't move – I'm coming, okay? Move slowly and don't look down!"

"O-okay!"

As the child began inching his way to a spot without crates hanging above, Gentarou gave Nagisa a nod. "You stay here, and if you see the crates start moving again just _shout_, okay?"

Nagisa nodded, his lips pulled in a tight line. "Sure. Be careful, okay?"

"When am I not careful?" was all Gentarou said before slowly walking up to the point where Teruaki was hanging. He kept an eye on the crates all the time, but none of them fell nor the conveyer belt moved again, so when he reached the clear spot beneath which Teruaki now hang he felt safe enough, at least for the moment. He looked down at the child. He wasn't too surprised to see he was crying, face tilted up towards him and tears falling from the corners of his eyes and down his temples. But tears meant little to him, as did the anonymous face looking up at him. He was identical to everyone else in the world. A monkey. And he could be replaced – the world could certainly keep spinning with one less problematic kid, he reasoned.

"H-help me," Teruaki whispered, as though afraid speaking any louder could make him lose his grip and fall.

Mechanically, Gentarou reached down. "Give me your hand," he heard himself saying, his voice unnaturally calm. A few drops of blood, his blood, fell from his forehead onto the child's shoulder, but neither took notice. "It will be alright. I've got you."

And Teruaki did as he had said, because he trusted him blindly, foolishly so. He reached up with one thin hand to grasp his, and then did the same with the other – until he was holding onto nothing but Gentarou's hand. Letting go would be so easy now, Gentarou thought, so easy, and so _convenient_, with most of his problems solved in one simple action – opening his hand and letting him fall.

His grip around the boy's hand slackened a fraction…

… and he stopped.

Looking back even years later, he wouldn't know what had exactly kept him from letting the child fall. It hadn't been conscious thinking, for letting him go would have been the most logic action for his own self-preservation; it had been just some kind of instinct, one that he would come to lose in time – a part of him that, right there and _then_, had not been able to purposely let a child fall to his death on the metal floor down below.

Perhaps he would had let him go had he had more time to _think_. But truth was that, after that split of second, he had no time at all to even _try_ to think.

"GENTAROU!"

Nagisa's warning cry reached him the same moment as the whirring sound of the conveyer belt getting back in motion, and from that moment on he acted out on pure instinct: he braced his foot against the rail and pulled the boy upwards with just one powerful pull, grateful for the fact he was so small and scrawny and wonderfully _light_. Teruaki landed in a heap on the catwalk, and Gentarou immediately grabbed the collar of his shirt to force him up. "To the door – _quick_!"

The both bolted down the catwalk, and not a moment too soon: the same instant they began running, dodging the wooden debris on the floor, the crates began falling again. They were lucky, though: most of the crates were behind them now, and they only had to run as quickly as they could – in a matter of a handful of seconds they were inside the furnace and safe – again.

Teruaki collapsed on the floor, and Gentarou leant against the rail, trying to catch his breath. "I… hope you enjoyed the show," he told Nagisa as the sound of crashing crates began fading again. "Because I'm not doing this again. Ever. Give a moment to catch my breath and-" he trailed off when an odd, wheezing sound reached his ears through his own panting breath. "Wha…?"

"Teruaki?" Nagisa called out worriedly.

"What the hell? What _now_?" Gentarou asked, unable to keep exasperation off his voice.

Teruaki didn't answer: he just kept wheezing, sprawled against the rail, and began frantically searching for something in his shorts' pocket. Too frantically, and his hands shook too much, so when he pulled out his hand from his pocket whatever object he had been trying to pull out fell on the floor with a clatter. Dark as it was, Gentarou couldn't tell what it was until Nagisa spoke.

"You… have asthma, right? Was that the inhaler?" the boy asked, and began blindly searching the floor with his good hand as soon as Teruaki managed to nod, still wheezing, limp against the rail. "Gentarou! Help me out!" Nagisa called, an urgent note in his voice.

Gentarou hesitated for a few instants, then, inwardly cursing himself for letting himself being led to behave so illogically – why should he keep struggling to keep alive someone he may need to leave to die anyway to save himself? – he reached in his pocket for the box of matches they had found earlier, the one Teruaki had used to explore the furnace downstairs. He struck a match, and the trembling light it cast was enough to help Nagisa locating the inhaler at last.

"Found it," Nagisa gasped, and Gentarou saw him pressing the small object into Teruaki's shaking hand. "Here. Found it."

"T-thank…" Teruaki tried to speak, but he clearly didn't have enough breath to. He brought the inhaler to his mouth and sprayed, drawing a few deep and almost convulsive breaths at the same time. It worked like a charm: only a few moments later the boy was breathing once again. Panting breaths, sure, but he wasn't wheezing anymore and the air seemed to be getting where it should: in his lungs.

"T-thank you," Teruaki finally managed to utter, then his gaze focused on the opposite rail of the furnace and he blinked. "T-there is s-something o-on the rail!"

"Wha- ow! Damn it!" Gentarou growled as the match burned down completely, burning his fingertips before going out. He shook his hand with a grimace before he struck another match and looked where Teruaki had been pointing. And there is was, almost invisible even with the source of light provided by the match: a black key hung to the rail in the blackness of the furnace.

"Well, damn. It was almost invisible," Gentarou muttered, reaching up to take it and slipping it in his pocket. "Nice work there, rabbit boy."

Teruaki smiled a little at the praise, but his smile faded once he looked at his face again. He turned back to Nagisa, who was still clutching his left arm. "W-w-what happened to you?"

Nagisa gave a barking laugh. "Are you referring to my broken arm or Gentarou's split forehead?" he asked.

That caused Gentarou to turn his attention to Nagisa's arm for the first time in several minutes. "We should do something about that before we heard back," he said reasonably. "You can't walk around with a broken arm. Maybe we could use a piece of crate as a stick, and if we rip a shirt or something…"

It took them a few minutes to get things sorted out, but once they worked out what they had to do things went smoothly enough. Shortly afterwards both sleeves of Gentarou's turtleneck shirt had been ripped off, one of them serving as a bandage to his own head while the other kept a piece of wood tied to Nagisa's broken arm so that it could serve as a stick. The pain was bearable now, or so Nagisa claimed, but there was no reason to make it worse. Both Gentarou and Nagisa had taken off their belts, and together they formed a loop large enough to hang Nagisa's arm to his neck. It wasn't especially comfortable, but it was practical, and it would have to do for now.

Given that there would be a _later_.

"So… what now?" Nagisa asked as they peered out of the door, looking up at the crates that were _still_ hanging from the ceiling, all the way down the catwalk they were to run through _again_.

"Now we run. Again," Gentarou finally answered, turning to glance at Teruaki again. "Or at least, we run as soon as he can catch his breath enough to," he added, inwardly cursing everyone in there – the damn kid for having asthma, Nagisa for wanting to go back for him when he had been trapped, and himself for caving in even though without him in the equation he and Nagisa could go through Door [9] and out of that nightmare.

Nagisa turned to look at him, his right hand adjusting his left arm's position one more time. "So you're telling me your plan is running for our lives panicked ostriches? That is your plan?"

Gentarou frowned in annoyance. "That's the gist of it, yes. We have to get back, don't you think?"

"Oh. Wonderful," Nagisa said, deadpanned. "Why, I see no way this carefully laid-out plan could possibly fail."

"If you happen to have learned how to fly, please do teach me," Gentarou snapped back. "Because I certainly have _not_."

Nagisa sighed. "Damn, there goes my plan," he tried to joke before turning serious again. "Gentarou?"

"What is it?"

"Do you think we'll make it out?"

For a few moments, Gentarou said nothing; he thought of the wound on his head, glanced at Nagisa's broken arm and listened to Teruaki's still slightly panting breath. Odds were even more against them now… but he still had the scalpel, he wanted to _live_, and Nagisa had gotten over the breakdown enough to be his reasonable, practical self again. He had an ally again, and it made things less bleak that they had looked not even twenty minutes earlier.

"Well, you said it," he finally answered with a reasonable attempt at a smile. "We're a winning team, aren't we? So let's go win our way out of here."


	9. Door 9

_A/N: I know I took a lot of time to update. Sorry about that, I was completely distracted by other fics. I'll try not to let this much time pass between updates again; there aren't many left before the end, anyway._

* * *

Even though the screens in the lounge showed what was going on through both doors the remaining players had picked – all while the cameras in the captain's quarters, the one door not taken, only showed the lifeless body of a man tied to the steering wheel – most people's attention was directed to the ones showing what was going on behind Door [6].

Granted, there had been a brief moment where everyone stared at the other screen, the one showing what was going on in they had started calling the 'torture room'; namely, when the kids had been busy with their fruitless search for the key on the lower floor and everyone was curious to see if the player with the number [7] card would end up being electrocuted on the electric chair they were required to use in order to get out. But, for the joy of the man who had bet on him and to Musashidou's utter boredom, that hadn't happened; so, as soon as number [7] and [9] were done with it, everyone's attention eagerly shifted to the boys – who had just then begun going up the metal stairs to the catwalk.

"But number [6] I staying downstairs," one of them had lamented. "It's not nearly as exciting as it would be if they were all upstairs. May I suggest giving the child a little incentive to _move _before the crates start crashing?"

Ms. Sato, one of the most influence personalities among them, had turned to glance at Musashidou and Ikeda – the first having bet on all three the boys, and Ikeda having bet on the child alone. "He's your bet and that would mean making things riskier for him. So, what do you say?"

"Whatever suits you best," was Ikeda's reply. It was pretty much the one thing he had to say to anything at all, Musashidou had mused more than once. He didn't make an interesting conversation partner, but he was one willing to take risks when it came to gambling and Musashidou appreciated that.

Sato's eyes had shifted on Musashidou, as had everyone else's, and he shrugged. "I can't see why not. What's the fun in making risky gambles if then you don't _keep_ them just as risky all the way through?" Musashidou had replied, causing Takahashi to sigh.

"Dimming your chances of winning even more? God, you _are_ insane."

"That's very much likely, my friend. But at least," Musashidou had said with a smirk, "no one has ever accused _me_ of being boring."

With that, it was settled: the order to turn off the lights in the engine room beneath the catwalk was given, and it worked just as they had expected – with the terrified child running up to the lit catwalk and to his team mates, just on time for the moment the show _truly_ started.

And, as usual, it had been the highlight of the game: few things were as exciting as watching your bet frantically trying to get away with their lives against all odds. Gordain was right: once you start betting on people as they fight for their life, nothing else can compare.

And of course, by the time that little show was over and the boys were walking through the door to the cargo room, Musashidou could barely keep his grin in check. "Looks like my boys made it," he commented somewhat proudly. Yes, two of them were wounded and number [3] was especially battered, but they were alive and still capable of getting out.

Takahashi turned away from the screen, surprise plain on his face. "Well, I'll be. I was certain they wouldn't leave that room alive."

Musashidou laughed heartily at Takahashi's comment. "I told you countless times, my friend – I make a far better judge of character than you do," he said smugly. "These boys have no intention to give up, so they will not. They'll do anything to get out alive."

"Don't get too smug now. They many have survived this room, but the game is not over yet. The other two are making their way to the chapel as we speak, so it all depends on which team will make to the incinerator first. And we all know who has the-"

Musashidou cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Yes, yes, I know. But the point still stands that the boys did surprise all of you, did they not? So who says they won't surprise us again? My bet doesn't seem as foolish as it did a hour ago, does it now?" he asked aloud, glancing at all the other people in the lounge; they all looked mildly annoyed, which always satisfied him immensely.

"I agree with Takahashi," Ms. Sato said tightly. "Don't get ahead of yourself. The game is still on."

A chuckle. "Of course, of course. By the way, it wouldn't be a problem if I doubled my bet on the boys, would it? No? Thank you very much, you're the best," he said with a curtly bow before shifting into a more comfortable position, eyes back on the screen.

Now that the game was nearing its end, he felt just like he did when only a few laps were left before the horses reached the finish line; only that it was more intense, with more factors to play in the result, and the resulting suspense was so much stronger. And he loved it – every second of it.

But when he looked back at the screen, for just a few moment, his thoughts lingered on something else other than the challenges still ahead the players, something no one else in the room seemed to have noticed even though they watched the screens with his same rapt attention.

The almost unnoticeable hesitation that number [5] had shown for one instant before pulling the child back up on the catwalk.

* * *

For a few minutes after they made it out of the next room and into yet another hallway, neither Nagisa nor Teruaki even tried to speak to Gentarou at all.

The next room once they left the furnace turned out to be some kind of cargo room, and there were crates hanging from above and ready to fall even there… and another locked door, whose key was hung in plain sight on the wall.

On the other side of the room.

And since Nagisa had a broken arm and Teruaki was simply useless, it had been Gentarou to go and try reaching it. The several minutes he had to spend running back and forth across the room trying to reach the other end without being smothered by the falling crates – all while spewing out curses that could have made the lovechild of a sailor and a truck driver blush – had definitely done _nothing_ to improve his mood.

In the end, it was Nagisa to break the silence once they reached an elevator, with a grate right next to it. "It seems we're back where we started. Well, not _really_," he added quickly as soon as Gentarou shot him a glance that was nothing short of murderous. "I mean, we came out of the elevator on the _other_ side of the grate. Not this one. And the hallway keeps going," he added.

Gentarou turned in the direction he was looking at. Yes, the hallway did keep going, so far ahead that he couldn't even see the end. "No point in going back right now," he said, taking a few steps into it. "Let's go."

They walked in silence for a couple of minutes, Gentarou and Nagisa walking side to side and Teruaki following closely. The result was that as soon as they stopped on their tracks, Teruaki bumped against them.

"W-what is it?" he asked, adjusting his glasses and looking up at them as they kept staring ahead.

"A door," Gentarou murmured.

It was no Door [9], though he had hoped that much: just a regular door, with no number on it. But that was the only door in the hallway, so it would have to do. They walked up to it quickly, and Gentarou grabbed the handle. "Ready?" he asked.

"No, not quite," Nagisa said. "I'd love some tea and biscuits first."

Gentarou and Teruaki both stared at him. Nagisa rolled his eyes.

"What do you _think_? Open this shit already!"

"That was a rhetorical question," Gentarou grumbled, but he said nothing else and just pushed the door open.

What he saw was enough to make in stop in his tracks.

The room seemed to be a chapel of some kind, with candles and all, but Gentarou barely paid any attention to it: all he could stare at was the other end of the room. Right ahead of him, beyond a few rows of benches, there was a double door with a card reader by its side – and, on that door, was written the number they all had been searching for all that time.

[9]

And still, that wasn't what made Gentarou and the others stop short. No, it was something else that made Gentarou's heart suddenly jump in his throat: Pluto and Nitro. They were there already, standing in front of the door, looking back at them with wide smiles.

Smiles. They were _smiling_.

They stood in front of the door to safety, the door where only some of them could go through, inside the room where at least one of them would be left behind to drown, and they _smiled_.

That wasn't a good sign, Gentarou realized – it wasn't a good sign _at all_. His right arm tensed, ready to dig in his pocket to pull out the scalpel any second, but he forced himself to smile back. "Nice to see you again," he said, managing to sound calm.

Pluto and Nitro's smiles started to waver, but that was apparently caused by the fact they were starting to noticed how much they all looked like they had just been through hell and back. Not that it was news or anything, Gentarou thought.

"For heaven's sake, boys, what _was_ there behind that door?" Pluto asked, his eyes going from the carbon-black mess that was Teruaki to the bandage on Gentarou's head and then to the makeshift cast on Nagisa's arm.

Nagisa smiled weakly. "It was… a bit of a mess," he replied, but he clearly was wary: his body language and strained voice was enough to tell Gentarou as much. Not that he could blame him: if those two were to turn against them, it would be now… and since they were now standing in front of their way to safety, they were bound to make their move. Pluto could come with them, but Nitro certainly wouldn't willingly choose to stay behind for their sake. Who would? Only Murakami could be that foolish.

Or perhaps not even her: what if hers were only words? Maybe she had believed them when she had spoken, but what if she hadn't died and the will to get out alive was too strong in the end? Would she have forced her way out and left even Teruaki behind, deaf to his cries for her and only aware of her own will to _live_?

Maybe she would have. But there was no way to know it now. He never would know. Not that it mattered.

All that mattered now were the two men in front of them, at their identical faces staring down at them as their owners certainly got ready to finish them and get the key cards. Gentarou felt Teruaki shifting closer to him and Nagisa.

Instead of attacking, Nitro gave a low whistle. "Well, damn. I kind of wish we didn't let you go through that door alone, kids. Maybe we should have-"

"There were traps," Gentarou cut him off. "Your presence wouldn't have changed that."

A sigh. "True enough. Still, you look rather bad. Is your arm broken?" Pluto asked, glancing worriedly at Nagisa.

Gentarou felt a violent surge of anger against both him and Nitro. Why were they pretending they gave a damn? Why keep up the act while they all knew that game was up, that not all of them could leave that room? Did they think they could be so easily fooled into lowering their guard?

Nagisa seemed to share his thoughts, for when he spoke again his voice was tight. "It is broken, but I can deal with it. Shouldn't we be worrying over something else now?" he asked, eyes flickering to the door.

Both adults glanced back at Door [9] as though they had forgotten it was even there.

"Oh, that's right," Pluto said. "Yes, we have little time to waste, after all – not even two hours before time's up. So, a little exchange is needed now."

Gentarou swallowed hard, and felt both Nagisa and Teruaki moving closer to him. "An exchange?" he repeated, his voice dangerously even. His right hand twitched. If they tried to do something now, if they even tried to approach…!

Apparently unaware of his nervousness, Nitro shrugged. "Yep. We need to get out, so can you hand us card number [2]? We've got to sort out this thing with the cards so that we can get out, after all."

Gentarou scoffed. "So that you can get out?" he repeated. "You think we're just going to go along with it?"

Nitro blinked. "Well, yeah. Why not?"

And he even had the nerve to look surprised! Gentarou ground his teeth in fury, and when he spoke again his voice was nothing but a feral growl. "If you think we're just going to let you leave us behind-" he began, only to be cut off by a chuckle.

Pluto's.

He glanced at the man to see he was shaking his head. "Nitro, I don't think they get what you mean. Fair enough, though – they haven't even seen it yet, have they now?"

Nitro stared. "They haven't even… oh! Oh, right!" he laughed. "Hadn't thought about it. So you thought that we…? Hey, now. I hoped you'd think higher of me."

It was Nagisa to speak up again, his voice tight. "What are we _supposed_ to think? He clearly said you need our cards to get out! If that is not your plan, then what _is_ it?"

Pluto chuckled once more and shook his head. "Now, now. I think we're having a miscommunication, boys. He said 'we' as in all of us. We all will get out. But we need a card you have first – and you need a card _we_ have. Mars' card number [4], unless my mathematical abilities deceive me."

Gentarou scowled. "What are you _saying_?" he demanded to know, his hand now only centimeters away from his vest's pocket and the scalpel, muscles tense. "We cannot all get out! There is one door, our digital root doesn't match the number and-"

He was cut off by Nitro's uproarious laugh. "Hey, hear him roar," he joked, then, "take a look behind you, King of the Jungle. You'll see what we're talking about."

The thought it may be a trap of some sort didn't even cross Gentarou's mind: he was too taken aback by the absurd direction the conversation had taken. He and the other two turned as one to glance behind them… and stayed silent for several moments, eyes wide, just staring.

There was another door there.

A small metal door with a [9] painted on it.

"Wha…?"

"But how…?"

"What the _hell_?"

Nitro laughed again. "Yeah, that was our same reaction when we got here, a few minutes before you kids did. Two [9] doors. Damn, had we known there would be two of these we wouldn't have worried so much," he added, relief clear in his voice.

Gentarou's right hand, the one he had been ready to shove in his pocket to grab the scalpel, fell by his side. "Two doors," he repeated, barely able to believe it. Then again, why shouldn't there be? He realized now that they had simply _assumed_ there would be one [9] door, as there was only one door for every other number. But their assumption was wrong: there were two. And that meant… "We can get out," he murmured. "We… we can all get out."

Nagisa laughed. It was a laugh filled with relief, and yet somewhat strained. "I just… I thought… holy shit. Holy _shit_," he repeated, and laughed again. He turned to Teruaki. "Heard that, rabbit boy? We can al get out of-" he began, only to trail off when he noticed that the child was crying silently, huge tears rolling down his cheeks as he kept staring at the second door, unmoving, unblinking.

"Hey, what is it, kid?" Nitro asked, all cheerfulness gone from his voice. "This is pretty great news, you know. We can all get out and go home. And you'll see your mom and dad again. Aren't you glad for that?"

Teruaki sniffled and reached to wipe his cheek with the back of his hand, leaving a carbon-black smudge across it. "I-if there are t-t-two doors, then… then M-Miss Murakami was… k-killed for nothing…" he choked out, his voice fading a moment later. A sob wracked his thin frame, and he said nothing more.

Despite caring little for his breakdown or for Murakami herself – what was a stranger's life in the face of the possibility of getting out of that nightmare and back to his life? – Gentarou frowned in thought. That was true, he realized: if Murakami truly had been killed because someone wanted to get rid of a competitor to survival, she truly had died for nothing. Was that the point of that game, Gordains' Game? Putting complete strangers against each other to make them fight and even kill each other to get out only to realize in the end that all of it had been pointless, that all of them could have been saved, that they had drenched their hands in blood for nothing? Was that... _it?_

_Bastards. Damn bastards. Why? Why do that? Why us? Why me? WHY?_

"Oh. Oh, damn," Nagisa muttered. He crouched down, clenching his teeth form what was likely the pain in his arm, and reached to put his right arm around Teruaki's shaking shoulders. "Look, I… I'm sorry. We're going to make sure… they'll pay for this, you hear me? Whoever set this up will pay. We'll get out of here and go straight to the police, and… and they'll catch them. You hear me? They'll pay for what happened to her. Isn't that right?" Nagisa asked, turning to glanced around the room.

Both Pluto and Nitro nodded.

"Yes, of course."

"Naturally."

Gentarou said nothing: he just nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. Even if they could get whoever had set up all that to pay – hell knew how powerful they had to be in order to be able to run a show like _that_ – how could they tell who was it to actually kill Murakami? That was something he couldn't tell. While Mars had to be killed by Pluto because she had gone berserk for whatever reason and Mercury and Venus had killed each other in the attempt at saving themselves, there was no telling who had killed Murakami. Pluto and Nitro hadn't killed anybody even when they had both means and reason, so it felt safe enough excluding them; he had not killed her, nor had Nagisa since he was standing right there with him, and there was no chance it had been Teruaki… so it had to be either Mars, or Mercury, or Venus. Mercury or Venus seemed more likely, but on the other hand Mars had proven herself unstable, and perhaps was stronger than he had thought.

That being the case, then there would be no justice to be delivered for Murakami's murder – all of them were dead already. For a moment – just one moment – that almost bothered him. Almost.

"We need to get going," he finally said, his voice deadly quiet. "Pluto, you said you need card number [2] in exchange for card number [4], isn't that right?"

"That's correct," Pluto said, pulling out the card from his breast pocket and holding it out at him. "Here you go."

Gentarou took it and handed him the [2] card in exchange. "Thanks. So… we're good to go. I suppose we'll meet against outside," he added.

"That's very much likely, yes. We should hope there are lifeboats," Pluto added, sounding somewhat worried.

Nitro snorted. "There had better be. Imagine what a great joke, making it out only to find out we're stranded on the damn sinking ship we've been trying to get out of," he said, glaring himself a glare from Nagisa.

"That's not going to happen," he said sharply, a hand on Teruaki's shoulder, and Nitro promptly bit his lower lip.

"Oh. Oh, right. Well, I guess I was just… oh well, you're right. No harm in being optimistic. I mean, they set up this game to have winners and losers, those who made it out and those who didn't. Not much of a point if no one wins, right?"

Gentarou nodded and was about to agree, then a sudden sound reached them from the bowels of the ship – a low, drawn-out metallic groan. They all stayed silent for a few moments.

"We should get going. We still have some time before nine hours have passed, but I'd rather be far from this ship when it sinks," Pluto finally said.

"Agreed," Gentarou muttered, and turned back to the smaller [9] door. "We could take the small one. If they lead out, I suppose there is no difference."

Nagisa shrugged. "Fine with me," was all he had to say. Teruaki said nothing at all.

"Then Pluto and I will take the big one. See you outside." Nitro smiled broadly at them before heading to the door in question. "Bet we're going to get out first," he added, barely turning to glance at them over his shoulder. "Last group to make it out pays everyone's drinks once we're back to civilization!"

"Nitro, they're _minors_," Pluto pointed out, shaking his head like a long-suffering parent as he began passing the cards through the card reader.

"Oh, right. Ice-cream, then?" Nitro asked while the door opened behind him.

Nagisa laughed. "Works for me. Get ready to pay."

"You wish, kid."

Pluto chuckled. "Enough. Come, the door won't stay open for long," he said, walking past the door and gesturing for Nitro to do the same. He followed, but not before mouthing a 'we'll see' in Nagisa's direction.

"See you outside," Pluto's voice reached them one moment before the door closed behind them, leaving the three of them alone in the chapel.

There were a few moments of silence, and Gentarou got a good look at the chapel they were into for the first time – all his attention had been drawn to the door from the first moment. Now that he took the time to look around, he found that place to be sort of… ominous. There was a small altar with a cross handing above it, and hanging from that cross was a black and red robe, with a red symbol on it that looked like nothing Gentarou could remember ever seeing. For some reason, it made him want to get out of that room even more than a few moments earlier. He ignored the sudden chill that ran down his spine, and turned his gaze back to the door.

"Are we good to go?" he heard himself asking, walking up to the smaller door.

"Sure," came Nagisa's reply, and in mere moments both he and Teruaki were beside him. They passed the cards through the card reader and then, with a drawn-out groan Gentarou was starting to grow used to, the door began to open.

Impatient to leave that accursed ship behind, they stepped through before it was even completely open. In front of them there was a door, and behind that door...

"A long-ass hallway," Nagisa commented as Door [9] Door finally closed behind them. "Again. I don't know what I was expecting."

Gentarou sighed. "I can only hope there will be no traps here," he muttered before he began walking. Nagisa walked by his side and, just like before, Teruaki was a few steps behind them. He was completely silent, but Gentarou could hear him walking. "How's you arm?" Gentarou asked after a minute of walking in silence. That hallway really _was_ long, but seemed to hold no danger.

"Still hurts, but nothing unbearable. We're too close to being out of here to even begin to bother. At the moment I'm trying to decide whether or not I'll grant you the privilege of signing my cast and scribbling 'get well soon' or something like that," Nagisa added with a smirk.

A small chuckle escaped Gentarou. "And what makes you think I'll just give out my autograph so easily?"

"Hey now, easy with that ego! The hallway is narrow enough as it is."

"Look who's talking? 'Privilege', uh?" Gentarou mocked, barely holding back from giving Nagisa a playful shove. Something about the knowledge they were so close to be out of that nightmare was... exhilarating, to say the least.

"Fine, you know what? Forget about getting to write on my cast. How about you, rabbit kid? Wanna do it?" Nagisa asked, turning to glance back at Teruaki, who seemed to be snapped from some deep thought and blinked up at them.

"D-do what?"

"Write your name on the cast."

The child frowned in confusion. "W-why would I d-do that?"

"Well, because... because. It's just something friends do."

He spoke nonchalantly, like it was something obvious, but Gentarou and Teruaki found themselves exchanging a quick glance. It looked as though the child was just as taken aback as he was by such a flippant use of the term.

_Friends._

Nagisa made it sound so obvious, Gentarou mused, but he was either wrong or lying – they were not friends by any stretch of imagination. They were three strangers who had found themselves in a life or death situation and had worked together for mete hours... something they had chosen to do solely because their key card numbers, along with Mars', would allow them to open the last door and escape. It was a matter of convenience, that was it.

Teruaki, however, now didn't look just surprised: he seemed pathetically hopeful as well. In the end, he nodded and tried to smile – an awkward attempt at a smile, but a smile nonetheless. "S-sure."

Nagisa just smiled back, and it occurred to Gentarou it may have simply been an attempt at cheering up the kid. He briefly wondered why Nagisa would even bother trying, but then his attention was caught by something else – something he could finally see at the end of the hallway.

Stairs.

"Looks like they go all the way to the bottom deck," Nagisa commented once they reached them.

"Do you think it's safe?"

"Should be. I mean, if we find water down there, we can still get back up here."

"What if it's a trap?"

"Then run back up here like-"

"Like panicked ostriches? Such a master plan," Gentarou commented dryly.

"What, still bitter because I pointed out your 'plan' back in the furnace room was no plan at all?"

"Neither is this."

"Do you have better ideas?"

"Wasn't that _my_ line?"

Nagisa rolled his eyes. "Fine. _Fine_. I get it. Look, let's just go. It's not like we have any other way to go ahead anyway."

That was true, Gentarou had to admit, and they finally began walking down the stairs. Thankfully there was no water nor traps, so they made it without problems to the bottom of the stairs and to another hallway that branched in two – one branch to the left, and one going straight ahead. It only took them a few moments to decide they should split, with Gentarou going on the left and the other two seeing what was straight ahead.

"We'll meet again here in ten minutes," Gentarou had said, but it actually took him less than five minutes to be back. That branch of the hallway was a dead end, at least for now: there was a door on the wall, but it was locked, with an odd symbol above the lock – one that matched that of none of the keys Gentarou had seen until that moment.

He sure hoped the key they needed wasn't one Nitro or Pluto had, because that would mean they would be stuck there and... no, damn it, no! He refused to die there, drowning like a trapped rat, while so close to safety! It wouldn't be fair – it just wouldn't be _fair_!

"Gentarou!"

Gentarou looked up to see Nagisa and Teruaki standing ahead of him; Nagisa was waving with his right arm. "What is it? Did you find...?"

"We found another door! It's open! Get your ass over here!"

That wasn't the best invitation he had ever received, but Gentarou didn't mind: he felt as though a weight was lifted from his chest. There was another door, so they could still find their way out! They wouldn't drown there – _he_ wouldn't drown there!

He almost ran all the way to them.

"So, what's behind it? What have you found?"

Nagisa chuckled. "You're not going to believe it. Come, it's just ahead."

And he was right: Gentarou could barely believe his eyes when he opened the door to find himself staring at the most extensive library he had ever seen in his life.

* * *

"I hope you're aware that if you're to search through all these for a way out we'll likely drown down here like a bunch of rats."

Nagisa's voice sounded calm, even _too_ calm, and Gentarou found it especially unnerving. He made an effort to ignore him and let his gaze wander through the huge library. And right there, on the far right, there was _something_.

"Look, a book holder. Looks like there's a book on it," Gentarou said, and walked up to it. Until that moment absolutely everything had seemed to have been placed where they had found it for a reason, so why should that be any different? They would find something in that book, he was sure – something that would lead them out of there, perhaps to the key of the door he had seen earlier in the hallway.

However, his heart sank when he got close enough to realize that the book was a collection of Latin mottos – and he knew absolutely nothing of that god-forsaken dead language. He muttered a curse and turned to see that Nagisa had walked up to him; Teruaki was lingering near the entrance, apparently lost in thought.

"What's the problem?" Nagisa asked, walking up to the book holder and glancing down at the open book on it. His eyes skimmed over a page and then, unexpectedly, he chuckled.

"Latin? Well, damn. I'll have to tell my old man that his lessons were actually useful."

Gentarou blinked. "You... what?"

Nagisa didn't answer at first: he just reached to flip through the pages as well as he could with just one hand. "My stepfather is an university professor, and he's all about dead languages. He wanted to teach me some and, while most attempts fell through, I liked Latin enough to actually learn some. Not much but hey, I should be able to manage with mottos. By the way, did you notice that some pages are bookmarked?"

No, Gentarou hadn't noticed, but he sure did now. "Let me do that," he said, reaching to quickly open the book to the first bookmark. And then it didn't take a Latin expert to tell that one of the mottos was not like the others: one of them had a couple of random uppercase letters, while the first letter, the one starting off the phrase, was in lowercase.

_per Aspera ad aStra_

"Do you have a pen or something?" Nagisa asked. "I get the feeling the uppercase letters mean something."

Gentarou shook his head. "I'm afraid not. I suppose we'll have to keep the bookmarks and let it be enough. What does the phrase mean? That could be important, too."

Nagisa seemed to think for a few seconds. "Through hardships to the stars, I think. No, I'm sure. Does that tell you anything?"

"No."

"Then let's go to the second bookmark."

Gentarou quickly flipped through pages and, sure enough, there it was – one sentence different from the others by the seemingly random alternation of upper and lower case letters.

_MOriturI te salutaNt_

"Well, damn," Nagisa murmured.

"What does that mean?"

"Literally, 'those who are about to die salute you'. It was what gladiators were to tell the emperor before going off to fight in the arena. Shit, I _really_ don't like this," was Nagisa's grim reply.

Gentarou couldn't help but share his feelings – it was hard _not_ seeing the eerie similarity with what they had been thrown into – but tried to chase away the sensation: it was over, he thought, it was almost over and they all would make it out. There would be no more having to watch their backs out of fear that another player would kill them to get out alive.

"Let's not dwell in it too much," was all he said before flipping some more pages, to the next bookmark. And phrase they were looking for was right on bottom of the page.

_in NihilO ab niHilO quaM cito rEcidiMus_

"How quickly we fall back from nothing to nothing," Nagisa translated after a few moments of focused silence. "It's something along the lines of 'ashes to ashes'. Have I mentioned how much I don't like this?"

"You have," Gentarou said briefly, his eyes lingering on the phrase as he tried to memorize what the uppercase letters were. Then he turned a few more pages to the last bookmark.

_Dura leX, sed lex_

"Law is harsh, but it is law," Nagisa read. "Damn it, but what is it about? What_law?_"

Gentarou shook his head. "My guess is good as yours. Say, do the uppercase letters say anything to you? Reading them in order, I mean."

Nagisa frowned in concentration and flipped through a few pages. He stared at them for a few moments, then he shook his head. "Nothing that makes sense, no. Not in this order, at least."

"Do you think it's another anagram? Like the one back in the kitchen?"

A nod. "It may. Look, why don't you go check what Teruaki is doing? You can be of no help here anyway, not knowing Latin and all. I'll call you if I can see any possible combination that makes sense."

Gentarou didn't quite care to go babysitting, but then again he could as well look around and check if the kid had found anything. So he just nodded and walked away from the book holder, to see that Teruaki was on the other end of the library... looking at something unfolded on what looked like a reading table.

A piece of paper.

"What is that?"

Teruaki winced at Gentarou's sudden words – he clearly had been too taken by what he was looking at to hear him approaching – but he quickly recovered and pointed at what he had been reading.

"L-look. It's a m-map of the library, a-and there are details of the b-books' disposition."

Gentarou leant across the table to take a look. The map really was less about the library than it was about the shelves: apparently they were organized on a chess-like grille, with numbers from zero onwards and letters from A to Z. "I see. This is how they kept track of the shelves; each of them had coordinates."

"L-like chess, right?" Teruaki asked.

"Precisely. Only that it seems it's the other way around," Gentarou muttered, reaching to tap a spot on the grille, where the numbers were written. "The numbers come first, see? 1-A, 2-N, 9-K... numbers going from the floor up, and letters going from left to right. This should be enough to tell us each section apart. We still need coordinates to go by, but Nagisa is working on it. We found a book-"

"_I've got it!"_

Nagisa's exclamation was so sudden and so close to his ear that Gentarou couldn't help but recoil. He turned to glare at Nagisa, but the annoyance faded the moment he saw the large smile on his anonymous face and the meaning of what he had just said sank in. Had he really done it? Had he found the coordinates they needed?

"You did? What is it, then?" he asked eagerly.

"We were lucky that the solution was _another_ motto, or I may have never thought of the right combination. It's 'Omnis Homo Mendax'. It means 'every man is a liar'. Not really reassuring, either, but... what's that?" Nagisa asked with a frown when his eyes fell on the grille Gentarou and Teruaki had been looking at. After they filled him up, he seemed a lot less proud of having found the solution to the previous puzzle. "Wait, this makes the anagram useless. I mean, we have three words, and we need two letters and a number!"

Gentarou frowned in thought. "Perhaps," he said slowly, "we only need a letter from each word. How about the first ones?"

"Then we'd have O, H and M. But it's still three letters."

"Or two letters and something _else_," Gentarou replied, his eyes fixed on the grille. "Think about it: H and M are definitely numbers, but the other one – the first letter – may not be a letter. Or it may not be _just_ a letter."

Nagisa stared right back at Gentarou, eyes wide. "Wait. You mean that the O is not meant to be an O at all? That it's a fucking _zero?_"

Gentarou nodded. "It's likely. Which means we have to look at sections 0-H and 0-M. Let's split and go check both."

So they did, Teruaki and Nagisa checking the closest one while Gentarou went to check section 0-H. And look was on his side, too, for the third book he checked was the right one: he could tell as much the moment he opened it, because there turned out to be a hole through most of the pages... a hole where something had been tucked into.

A key. Or, Gentarou mentally corrected himself, _half_ of a key. What he had was the part meant to fit in the lock, and there would be no turning it without the head and shaft. Which, if his theory was correct, was only moments away from being found.

"Gentarou!"

He smirked. "Let me guess – you found half a key," he said, running up to them with the book still in his hands. And indeed, they had found the other half of the key. As Gentarou put the book aside to put the key together – yes, the two pieces fit perfectly – Nagisa glanced at the book.

"Apex Predators."

"Uh?" Gentarou looked up at him, a complete key now in his hand. Nagisa shrugged and nodded towards the book.

"It's the title of the book your half of the key was into. Apex Predators. It's a way to call the predators on top of the food chain, isn't it? Those with no predators of their own."

Gentarou, who truth to be told hadn't spared the book itself a glance until that moment, nodded. "Yes, that's what it means," he said, then glanced at the book under Teruaki's arm. "What's the title of yours?" he asked. It was Nagisa to answer.

"Survival of the Fittest. Those bastards are really trying to send us a message, aren't they?" he said grimly.

Yes, Gentarou thought, they were... and it was not an appreciated one. He clenched his teeth. "Well, they can take their message and shove it. We're out of here," he added, lifting the key. "I know where we have to use this. Let's go," he all but ordered, and the other two followed him without question back in the hallway and to the locked door Gentarou had seen earlier.


	10. Endgame

_A/N: I moved the first scene of this chapter to the end of the previous one. It works better story-wise and makes the chapter less ridiculously long._

* * *

As it turned out, the door led through yet another long hallway; probably the longest they had gone through until that moment. As they walked quickly through it, trying to ignore the metallic groans coming from the ship all around them, Gentarou kept giving nervous glances to his watch.

"How much time do we have?" Nagisa asked after a while, a worried not in his voice. It was getting unnerving, having to walk and walk and _walk_.

"About a hour and a half. It should be enough. It _must_ be enough," Gentarou muttered. "We have to make it out at some point."

Nagisa bit his lower lip. "What if...?" he began, only to trail off and glance behind, where Teruaki was walking quietly. He clearly did not want to finish the sentence and unsettle the child, but Gentarou could tell what thoughts were storming in his mind because they had to be the same going through his own.

_What if we don't make it out on time?_

_What if they lied and there is no way out at all?_

_What if only one of the [9] doors leads out and we picked the wrong one?_

With an effort to chase away such thoughts, Gentarou shook his head. "We'll be fine," he said, but he didn't feel as certain as he would have liked. Now that they were in the very bowels of the ship, with no luxurious interiors and the sound of groaning metal all around them... well, it was hard not to worry about the possibility their lives may actually end there, that they may drown like rats in a bucket and-

"Hey, look!" Nagisa's voice snapped him from his thoughts. Gentarou looked up to realize that they had just walked around a corner and that now, right ahead of them, the hallway turned into a larger space with a door on the wall... a door in front of which stood two people whose clothes he could recognize right away.

All of a sudden, Gentarou breathed more easily: they may not yet be out, but they had gone through Door [9], which meant they had no more reason to fight each other – and that nothing kept them from working together to get out as soon as possible. They would make it out, they had to, and Gentarou felt like a fool for doubting that even for one moment.

"Nitro! Pluto!" Nagisa was calling out. Both men, who seemed to be talking, turned to them. They both smiled widely when they saw them.

"Hey, kids! We did wonder if we'd meet up again before getting out," Nitro greeted them as they approached.

Pluto gave them a nod. "I hope there were no trap on your way this time. There was none on our path."

Gentarou shook his head. "Nothing on ours, either. How long have you been here?"

"No more than a couple of minutes. Just enough to take a look at the door: we cannot quite make out what is inside," Pluto added, and Gentarou only then noticed the small window on the upper half of the door. He approached and took a look inside.

He couldn't seem much: only a portion of what looked like a large, round room with metal walls. It reminded Gentarou of the steam engine room, but it clearly was something else... even though he couldn't for his life begin to guess what it may be. Finally, he stepped away from the window and shook his head.

"I can't tell, either," he admitted. "But if it's the only way out..."

"It has to be," Nitro cut him off. "It's the only door we found."

"Then we have to go through it," Nagisa stated matter-of-factly. "There probably is another door we cannot see from this angle. Can't see any other choice anyway."

Nitro nodded in agreement. "True. Okay, I'm gonna open it," he said, reaching for the door's handle. It was a heavy metal door, and Nitro gave a little grunt when he pulled it open with the metallic groan they had all grown used to. Nitro held it open to let Pluto in first, then Teruaki, then Nagisa and then Gentarou. He walked in as well immediately afterward, the door closing with a heavy clang.

A clang none of them even truly heard – not even with the stunned silence that had suddenly fallen on the whole group the moment they had laid eyes on what was on the opposite wall on their right.

A door.

A _numbered_ door.

His mouth suddenly dry, Gentarou closed his eyes for a few moments and opened them again, but that changed nothing – of course it didn't, and it had been foolish even thinking it would. No, the number on the door was still there, real and cold as the panic that was now starting to grip his throat.

[9]

"No!" Nagisa blurted out, breaking the eerie silence. Beside him, Teruaki winced and looked up at him and then to the others with wide, frightened eyes. Nagisa, however, didn't seem to notice: he kept staring at the door, and when he spoke again denial was plain in his voice. "It can't be! We already... we... why another one? What the _hell_ is this?"

"A door," Gentarou found himself rasping. "Door number [9]. The real one. The other were... they wanted us to believe it was over. They made us think we made it. But we hadn't. And..." he paused, and swallowed.

_And some of us will not get out_.

"Like hell! Get out of the way!" Nitro snapped, and ran across the room and to the door to try opening it. But Gentarou knew – they _all_ knew – that there was no use: the door would not budge. Whoever had set up that insanity certainly would not leave the last door, their ultimate joke, unlocked. And locked it was, just as the red light on the card reader mounted next to it showed.

A pull at his vest caused Gentarou to glance down, only to meet Teruaki's terrified gaze. "W-w-what do we d-do now?" he asked, his voice small. Gentarou stared helplessly at him for a few moments before looking up at Nagisa. But he got no help from him, not that time: he was staring at him as well, just as lost as Teruaki was and waiting for him to come up with _something_.

Gentarou closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, his mind working quickly. Already knowing that not all of them could get out, their best chance was talking Pluto into leaving with the three of them, leaving Nitro behind: only one person out of five would be sacrificed, and it would be an adult – so why should Pluto say no to what was a sensible solution? There was no reason why he should, that was it. No reason. _None_.

And if he did... then he would take the scalpel he still had in his pocket and fight his way out, no matter how small the likelihood of overpowering both men was: better a quick death trying to find a way out than a slower one by drowning.

With that thought in mind, Gentarou set his jaw and opened his eyes; years later, in a rare moment of talkativeness about those moments, Nagisa would tell him that his gaze in that instant had chilled him to the bone.

"We'll make it out. We will," Gentarou said quietly, so quietly that only Teruaki and Nagisa could hear him, then he stepped closer to Pluto. He was about to call out for him and tell him flat-out what his deal was, but someone else spoke first.

Nitro.

"Pluto," he called out, his hands still gripping the door's handles. His voice was calm, but his gaze lowered. Pluto looked at him, and Gentarou's heart skipped a beat – what was he about to say? Was he going to offer a deal of his own?

"What is it?" Pluto asked.

"Take the kids and go."

For a moment Gentarou was sure he had heard wrong, he _had_ to have heard wrong. But then Nitro turned back to them, pale as chalk, and spoke again.

"There's no way we can all go through this door. The kids' digital root along with Mars' card is [9]. Your card number wouldn't change it, so you can go as well. Do that, then. Better one death than five, right?" he added with a shaky smile. "Besides, there is still more than a hour of time and the end of this can't be too far. You could find help to get me back. But you've got to _move_."

"Nitro, no!" Pluto exclaimed, vehemently shaking his head. "Listen, come through with us. You'll break the rules, but at this point who cares? We're almost out! We can get away from here before the ship sinks!"

"And how do you know that?"

Both men promptly fell silent and turned to stare at Gentarou. He looked back at him, an odd calm pervading him. "We thought it was over back in the chapel, and yet we're still here. We don't know much much time we'll need to actually get out. It may be ten minutes, but it may be more. Much more. In which case we'd all drown if we break the rules and they actually sink this ship."

Pluto bit his lower lip. "But-" he began, only to trail off when Nitro spoke.

"The kid is right. Breaking the rules could get us all killed even now, and bringing other people down with me sure wouldn't make me any less dead," he pointed out, then gave a shaky smile. "Listen, just go and don't waste time. Think of the kids, okay?"

Those words caused Pluto to turn and look at Gentarou and Nagisa first, then his gaze lingered on Teruaki, who was following the whole scene pressed against Nagisa's side. Then, slowly, he shook his head.

"I'm sorry, but I can't allow this. It wouldn't be right."

All the tension that had been building in Gentarou's chest exploded into anger and something horribly close to panic. He wouldn't drown in there because that idiot was too kind-hearted! He refused to! He would get out and he would _live_, come what may! "What the hell is _wrong_ with you?" he snapped. "We have to leave! We can't all get out! The only chance we have is-"

_...truth..._

Gentarou's voice suddenly faded, and for a moment he couldn't speak. He abruptly turned to Nagisa. "What? What did you... did you say something?"

Nagisa recoiled. "Uh? I didn't say anything," he said in confusion, but Gentarou already knew that: since it was one of the few ways he had to tell people apart he had become good at recognizing voices, and the one he had heard was not Nagisa's... it was not even a male voice. No, it was that of a girl, and it hadn't even come from behind him: it had come from... somewhere else. And it hadn't been his imagination, of that he was cure. He had _heard_ it. Gentarou closed his eyes and tried to focus, his heart racing in his chest.

"Who's there?" he murmured. For a few moments he could only hear his own blood rushing in his ears, but then he heard it again – a girl's voice coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time, as though echoing in the back of his head.

_Truth... gone..._

"Who's there?" he called out again, louder, unaware of the perplexed glances he was getting.

"Gentarou, what…?"

"Shut up!" he snapped, ears straining to listen. But he wasn't truly listening with his ears, was he? No, the voice was in his mind. Insane as it sounded, it was in his _mind_ – and getting clearer and clearer with each passing moment.

_Truth had gone, truth had gone... darkness of the sinister hand..._

And now it was no longer the only voice he heard: now another voice, that of a young man, had joined it, the same words echoing in his head over and over and over as though they – they _who_? – were chanting them together.

_Truth has gone, truth has gone and truth has gone. Ah, now Truth is asleep in the darkness of the sinister hand._

And that was it, that was all he could hear, because the next moment someone was shaking him by a shoulder. "Gentarou!"

Gentarou recoiled, and blinked back into full awareness to realize that Nagisa was standing in front of him, his good hand still grasping his shoulder.

"What is it? What's going on?" he asked, worry and confusion plain in his voice.

"I... didn't you... hear...?" he asked, turning to glance at all of them. But on each face, anonymous as it was, he saw only confusion.

"We didn't hear anything. What are you talking about? Gentarou?" Pluto called out worriedly, but Gentarou did not reply: his mind was now mulling over what he had heard, what he was _sure_ he had heard.

_Truth has gone, truth has gone and truth has gone. Ah, now Truth is asleep in the darkness of the sinister hand._

But what did it mean? What _could_ it mean?

"Something about truth and... the hand, and... didn't you hear anything, either?" Gentarou asked, looking down at Teruaki. The child shook his head, clearly confused, and kept clinging against Nagisa's side the same way he had kept clinging to Murakami right until-

_...wait._

Murakami.

Gentarou's mind went back to the moment the lights in the hospital room had come out and they had seen her body on the floor, so very close to Teruaki. He remembered how they could immediately tell her neck was broken, for it was bent at an unnatural angle, her head almost touching her left shoulder and nail marks on her right cheek, and-

Gentarou's breath caught in his throat, eyes widening, and all of a sudden he knew – he knew what it was that didn't add up with that scene, he knew what he had to look for.

He _knew_.

_Ah, now Truth is asleep in the darkness of the sinister hand._

"Gentarou, are you alright?"

Nagisa's concerned voice reached him as though from a mile away. Gentarou turned back to him – to all of them – and smiled. "Yes. Yes, I am fine. Just one thing," he said, and reached to his wrist to take off his watch. He turned to Nitro. "Catch," was all he said, and threw it at him.

Nitro seemed surprised, but he did catch the watch in mid-air. Gentarou nodded. "Good. Would you mind giving it back? It's a present from my father. Thank you," he said when Nitro threw it back, then he turned to Pluto. "Catch," was all he said before throwing the watch at him as well. Much like Nitro, Pluto caught it with no trouble and then threw it back at Gentarou.

"Here, done," Pluto said. "Now, may I ask...?"

"In a minute. I need to check one more thing, to clear up one thing for good. Nagisa," he called, and threw the watch at him. The other boy caught it in mid-air, like the others before him. He used his only good arm, but he did so effortlessly... and that was enough of a proof to Gentarou. Besides, he already knew he was out of question: he had been with _him_ when it had happened, after all.

"Okay, now would you mind explaining?" he asked, handing it back to Gentarou.

"Of course," Gentarou said calmly, putting the watch back on. "Only one last question. Pluto?"

"Yes?"  
"When Mars attacked Venus – in what hand was she holding the scalpel?"

Pluto frowned in thought, as though trying to recall. "The right hand," he finally said.

"Are you certain?"

"Positive. But what _is_ it you're getting at?"

Gentarou didn't reply right away. He put his hands in his pockets, trying to look casual, and his right hand closed around the scalpel's handle. "As you probably noticed," he said, "I caught the watch with my right hand. And, back in the laboratory, Venus used her right hand to stab Mercury in the back. Mercury used his right hand to grab the gas mask and press it on his face. I don't think it's a scene I'll forget soon."

Nitro reached up to scratch his head. "What is it you're driving at, kid? I'm not following."

Gentarou smiled at him. It was a cold, fake smile. "You're not? My bad. I should speak more clearly. Very well, then. This is about Murakami," he said, ignoring the sharp intake of breath coming from Teruaki at the mere mention. "Specifically, about some interesting marks on her face."

"Marks? You mean the scratches on her cheek?"

"Yes. Now, correct me if I'm wrong – but the quickest and most effective way to break someone's neck would be grabbing them from behind, grabbing the opposite side of the face and twisting. Isn't that right?" Gentarou asked, paying no heed to Teruaki's whimper. He had eyes for one person in that moment, and one alone.

"Well, yeah. But what do you-"

"Imagine yourselves doing that. Ask yourselves how you'd do it, what hand you'd use to twist. Where would the scratch marks be? On the side of the face opposite to the hand you used, that's where. The opposite side to one's _dominant hand_. So try to remember on what side the scratch marks were – and try to think who, among us, would have left scratches on her right cheek," he finished, a sudden satisfaction pervading him – that of a predator closing the prey down in a dead end.

_Ah, now Truth is asleep in the darkness of the sinister hand._

For several moments, nobody spoke. Nobody moved. They only stood there, still and silent, all eyes fixed on the same person – the only one who had caught the watch with his left hand. Well, almost all eyes: because said person's eyes were, instead, fixed on Gentarou. He stared right back at him. "We don't have much time left Let's not waste it with useless denying. What do you have to say for yourself, Pluto?"

At firs, Pluto said nothing: he only stared at him, anonymous face devoid of any expression. Then, slowly, his lips began curling into a mockery of a smile. He lifted his hand and – slowly – he clapped. Twice.

"Congratulations, Gentarou. I knew you were a smart boy, but I must say you managed to impress me."

Gentarou answered to that cold smile with one of his own. "Oh, it was nothing special: only simple thinking I'm rather ashamed I didn't do first. Besides, someone else beat me to it, isn't that right? Mars did; she figured you out first. That's why she went berserk behind Door [7] – she realized there was a murderer only steps from her. It was you she aimed for when she took that scalpel, wasn't it? Venus was simply in the way, giving Mars her back. It was easy for you claiming that Mars had been trying to hit Venus from behind and you heroically stepped in. As it was easy to claim that stabbing her was purely an accident while you were trying to take the scalpel from her hands. Isn't that so?"

Pluto laughed. "Another gold star for you, my boy. Yes, that's how it went. No need for me to add anything: you figured it all so nicely on your own! Do tell me, what else have you figured out?"

Gentarou shrugged, and he didn't have to pretend he was calm: he was perfectly calm in fact, knowing he had the upper hand for the first time – there was nothing Pluto could do against all of them."From now on I'm only going on suspects, I'm afraid. So here's something I suspect: you knew Mercury and Venus were walking to their deaths back in the laboratory, weren't you? You knew the gate would close. You knew that was a trap. Am I right?"

Pluto tilted his head on one side, now looking genuinely curious. "And what makes you think so?"

"Don't you remember what we said back in the hospital room about the blackout?" Gentarou asked. "We came to the conclusion that the blackout was not a coincidence. It was planned, because it was so short and yet someone acted with no hesitation in such a brief time. We said that Murakami's murderer had to know of the blackout in advance to move so quickly and be that prepared. So here's my guess, Pluto: you knew how this game worked from the start. You knew things we could not know because you're not here by chance. You're not just a player. So, who the hell _are_ you?"

There was a brief moment of silence as Pluto stared at all of them. Nitro had instinctively moved away from him as well, and now they all were a few steps away from him. Then there was a chuckle, one that held no true amusement.

"My, what a bright boy you are. Very well, I confess. I knew all of how this game works because this is not the first one that takes place – and I helped setting up several of them. And I was to supervise this one as well, but..." he paused, his expression souring for the first time. "I made a mistake this time. I gave too much anesthetic to one of the chosen players. She had a heart condition, and died. _They_ were not pleased by the setback, nor they're forgiving people. So I was send here to take her place, and make this game as... entertaining as possible. Do tell me," he added, the cold smile back on his face, "have you ever heard of gladiators? Of their fights to death to entertain the masses? When a gladiator was defeated but not killed, the people could choose his fate; they could cry out for him to be spared or killed. And, most time, the unfortunate loser would die to sate their thirst of blood. This is not so different, wouldn't you say? They wanted their entertainment, they wanted blood, and I gave them just that. Only that these people also get to bet on who will live and who will die. I can just see them, drinking brandy in their lounge while watching us all on screen and waiting to find out who would die next! I'm certain they'll be satisfied enough to forget my mishap. Mercury and Venus' fight to the death was by far the highlight of the game. Well, at least until _now_."

"What the _hell_ are you talking about, you sick fuck?" Nitro snapped. His face was reddened by fury, his fists clenched. "Why? Why do this? And who are they? Why pick _us_?"

Pluto gave a frustratingly calm smile. "So many questions, so little time. You'll forgive me for failing to give you any more answers; the survivor will get them from _them_ directly. You'll be glad to know this, though, Nitro – you were right."

Nitro blinked. "What...?"

"Murakami. You were right about why I targeted her back in the hospital room," Pluto said, and his eyes moved from Nitro to Teruaki, who was staring up at him as though in a trance, eyes wide in disbelief. "I knew she wouldn't move from her spot. I knew she would stay were she was, because she was burdened with this little brat."

Teruaki's face went, if possible, even paler. He began shaking. "I-I... y-you..."

Nagisa glared at Pluto, gritting his teeth. "Shut up!"

Pluto didn't seem to even hear him. "Did you know you are the reason why she was brought on this ship in the first place, Teruaki? Did you even suspect that for a moment?"

"Enough! _Shut the fuck up_!" Nagisa roared, taking a step forward, and so did Nitro – but Pluto kept staring at Teruaki alone, a cruel smile on his lips.

"_Did you?"_

Nagisa was about to scream something else at him, but he was cut off by a furious shriek, and one moment later Teruaki's had thrown himself against Pluto, small and scrawny as he was, uncaring of the fact he had no chance against him.

And Pluto still _smiled_. Something about that smile made Gentarou realize that something was wrong, so _very_ wrong, and he tried to reach out for the child.

"NO! DON'T!"

But it was too late: fast as a snake, Pluto had grabbed Teruaki's shirt with one hand and was reaching inside his suit with the other – and a moment later there was the metallic click of a gun being cocked and Teruaki was trapped in Pluto's grip, a gun to his head. The child's fury vanished, leaving behind only white-faced terror.

"No! Let him go!" Nagisa cried out, his good hand balled into a helpless fist.

"Shit!" Gentarou growled, staring at the gun. "Where the hell did you get _that?_"

Pluto chuckled. "The gun? It was in the laboratory. I simply knew where to find it. Now, why don't you all take a few steps back? Unless, of course, you're dying to see this little guy's brains smeared all over the floor," he added, pressing the gun harder against Teruaki's temple. The child whimpered.

"You bastard," Nitro snapped, but he did step back, as did Nagisa and Gentarou: trying fight now would only result in being shot, Gentarou thought in helpless fury.

"So, what now?" he asked dryly. "Are you planning on leaving on your own?"

A snort. "And here I thought you were intelligent. I could have killed you all in numerous occasions if that was what I wanted. No, that's not it. Have I not mentioned that they want to see your fighting and bargaining for your lives? They want to see conflict, boy. That's why Nitro's generous offer wouldn't do: it was all too _easy_. This game is all about conflict and survival, and this room... this room is where the best comes."

He was barely done speaking when the room was suddenly bathed in red light, and a siren began blaring loudly.

"Wha...?"

"What's going on?"

"What the hell?"

Pluto laughed. "Endgame, that's what's going on!" he exclaimed, and then another voice rose above the siren's blaring

_Warning. Warning. Emergency incineration command has been acknowledged. Automatic incineration will take place in 18 minutes. Please evacuate the incinerator immediately. Repeat: emergency incineration command has been acknowledged._

That was more than enough for Gentarou's blood to run cold. Incinerator? Emergency incineration? That could only mean that...

_Shit. Oh, shit._

Gentarou turned to look at Nagisa, who returned an equally horrified gaze.

"I see you finally understand what the losers' fate is," Pluto said, raising his voice to be heard over the siren. "They do not drown – they _burn_, guys. Oh do they burn!" he laughed again, a sound that made Gentarou want to cover his ears and scream.

"You _bastard!_"

"Now, now. Such an undeserved insult. As I said, I'm not just leaving all of you here. Oh no. Here, take the boy," he added, suddenly pushing Teruaki forward. The child stumbled, but he regained his footing before falling and ran back to them, immediately hiding behind Gentarou. He was shaking uncontrollably, but Gentarou barely even took notice. His eyes were still fixed on Pluto, who kept the gun pointed at them.

"Then what is it you want?"

A shrug. "A deal, that's all. The door we got in through is now locked, as always when the incinerating procedure starts. But this door, the real Door [9]... _this_ is the way out. Of course, I'm leaving. But I'll be generous and I'll allow one or two of you to come with me. Two at most. But you will have to pick who – either by noble sacrifices or fighting, but somehow I doubt there will be any willing sacrifice. The thought of burning alive is enough to make even the most generous souls falter. Don't you agree, Nitro? No longer so eager to sacrifice yourself, are you?"

But Nitro wouldn't answer: he just stared at Pluto, chewing his lower lip bloody, hands balled into fists.

Gentarou's mouth felt dry at the mere thought that bastard was about to make the four of them fight to the death to get out. For several moments, none of them said nothing: they could only _stare_.

_Automatic incineration will take place in 15 minutes._

"Well?" Pluto asked, waving the gun in a bored gesture. "Can't do math anymore? Very well, let me help you and give you the possibilities. We have all the cards, so it's only a matter of _who_ will come with me: Nitro, leaving all the rest behind? Gentarou and Nagisa, leaving Nitro and Teruaki to burn? Or would you rather save yourself, kid?" he added, looking down at Teruaki. "You don't want Murakami's sacrifice to be wasted, do you? If you die, it will have been useless. But you can _live_. She wanted you to live, I'm sure. If you leave Gentarou and Nitro behind, you and Nagisa could come with me. It's your choice, everyone," he added, letting his gaze wander through all four of them. "And you don't have much time to choose."

"Gentarou...?" Nagisa called out, his voice suddenly shaky. Gentarou turned to look at him. He terrified, as he was – _not_ being terrified of the situation would have been foolish – but he still looked at him for a plan, a strategy of some kind. And that was a relief: it meant he still had an ally, if anything. And they could leave together, they really could: Gentarou had the wonderful certainty that Nagisa would choose him over Teruaki any time. And he had a scalpel, so maybe subduing Nitro wouldn't be impossible and-

"Well, well. Looks like someone has made up his mind."

Pluto's comment caused Gentarou to recoil and immediately turn back. And, for a moment, he thought his eyes were tricking him.

Teruaki was walking to Pluto, slowly, his head hanging low as though he couldn't stand to look at Murakami's murderer directly – but he was going to stand beside him, and Gentarou felt a knot forming in his stomach: none of the combinations Pluto had offered would allow both him and Teruaki out – one of them would have to stay. And if Nagisa accepted to go, he'd...!

"Teruaki?" Nagisa rasped, clearly as taken aback and Gentarou was. "What... what are you doing?"

Now only a few steps from Pluto and without turning to face them, the child spoke. "I'll g-go with him. I w-want to g-go home," he said, his voice little more than a pitiful mewling. "P-please, Nagisa. L-let us go home."

_Automatic incineration will take place in 12 minutes._

Pluto laughed, a laugh that boomed through the incinerator even over the siren's wailing. "Well, it seems that the boy made up his mind. What do you choose, Nagisa? If you don't come with me, then neither will the child. I told you, I have the cards I need to leave by myself – I'm doing you a favor, giving two of you a chance. Leave behind these two," he smirked and Nitro and Gentarou, "and you'll live. Stay where you are, and all of you die – Teruaki included. Don't you want to save the kid?"

Now dreadfully pale, Nagisa seemed unable to even speak for several long moments. His eyes went from Gentarou to Teruaki and then back, and he seemed unable to take a decision. Gentarou barely dared to breathe, unable to think of anything but the fact that no matter what Nagisa chose – he wouldn't be among the survivors. And Nitro... Nitro was saying nothing, as though overwhelmed, staring stupidly at Pluto.

Who, on the other hand, seemed to grow impatient.

"For heaven's sake, what part of my reasoning didn't you get?" Pluto said with an exasperated sigh. He once again looked and sounded all the world like a long-suffering parent. "In case you haven't noticed, our time becomes limited. So why don't you- _ah!_"

Everything happened so quickly that Gentarou could barely realize it. He saw Teruaki finally coming to stand by Pluto's side, something that Pluto barely even seemed to notice, and then shoving a hand into a pocket of his shorts... a hand that came back out with _something_.

A knife.

There was a flash of steel when the blade buried itself into Pluto's thigh, causing him to cry out. Gentarou saw as though in slow motion Pluto's hand instinctively opening, saw the gun falling on the floor.

_Automatic incineration will take place in 9 minutes._

"You little _shit_!" Pluto screamed, hitting Teruaki with enough strength to send him sprawling on the floor like a rag doll. He turned and frantically tried to grab the gun again, but before he could Gentarou was on him – and, this time, the scalpel he had kept in his pocket for hours was in his hand.

Pluto saw it, and tried to grab Gentarou's arm, but before he could Gentarou struck blindly and he screamed again. Gentarou had hoped the catch his throat, but the blade only opened a deep, bleeding gash across his forehead and then across his cheek. Pluto cried out once more, blood now soaking the front of his gray attire, and Gentarou brought back his arm to strike again.

But he didn't get a third try: the next moment Pluto's punch struck him in the stomach, taking all breath out of his lungs. Gentarou fell back on the floor, breathless, almost blinded both by pain and the red light that invaded the room. Even the siren's blaring was now distant and somewhat distorted. Then there was a roar, like that of an angry bear, and then the sound of a struggle. Gentarou blinked, trying to clear his vision, and lifted himself on his elbows with a groan to look.

It was Nitro. He seemed to have snapped out of his shock and was now locked in a vicious struggle with Pluto. Nitro's nose was bleeding, but he it was clear he had the upper hand: only moments later a powerful punch landed square on Pluto's jaw, causing it to break and Pluto to collapse on the floor like a rag doll. He tried to get up again, but he immediately stilled – they _all_ stilled – when a loud bang filled the air, even louder than the siren's blaring. His breathing still difficult, Gentarou turned to the source of the noise and found himself staring at Nagisa.

The other boy was pale, paler then he had seen him until that moment, black hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. His right arm, the good one, was lifted – and in his hand, pointing towards the ceiling, was the still smoking gun. "Stay right where you are, Pluto," he growled, lowering his hand and pointing the gun straight at him. "Or my finger just might slip. Several times. Back off, Nitro – wouldn't want to hit _you_."

Nitro nodded and backed off, leaving Pluto alone in the center of the room. Nagisa kept his eyes and the gun fixed on him, but when he spoke again it was not to him. "Teruaki, are you okay?"

The boy nodded in silence. One of his glasses' lenses had cracked and he had bright red mark on his face where Pluto had hit him, but he didn't seem to even acknowledge that: he just stayed silent and kept staring at the bleeding man on the floor.

"He is. And so am I, thank you for asking," Gentarou muttered, painfully pulling himself back on his feet. He walked up to him and held out his hand. "The gun," he said gravely. "You know what we must do now. Give me the gun."

For a few moments Nagisa stared at him as though not comprehending, then he turned to Nitro, as if asking for help. The man, who was trying to stop his nose from bleeding, turned away and said nothing – leaving the decision entirely in their hands. Finally, Nagisa nodded and let Gentarou take the gun.

It felt cold and heavy in his hand, but holding it didn't feel unpleasant. It was quite galvanizing, actually. It made him feel powerful. It made him feel in control.

_Automatic incineration will take place in 6 minutes._

"Wait, wait! Wait a moment!" Pluto cried out, trying to lift himself from the floor and managing to sit up. Beneath the blood, his face was deadly pale. "We can still get out! You won, alright? You won! We can all leave!" he exclaimed, his chest rising and falling with frantic breaths. He spoke painfully with a broken jaw, and each word he uttered dripped reeked of desperation.

Gentarou scoffed and lifted the gun, causing Pluto to fall silent and stare at it with widened eyes. When he spoke, his voice was calm and cold as ice. "Yes, Pluto. We won. And you were right, you know: this _is_ the endgame. And you... you _lose_. This is how the game works, isn't it? The weak die, and losers burn. So burn in hell," Gentarou growled, but the moment he pulled the trigger someone grabbed his arm. There was a deafening bang, but the bullet hit the floor several feet away from from the bleeding lump that was Pluto.

"What the hell?" Gentarou growled, turning to see who had grabbed his arm... and he could only stare in surprise when he realized that it had been Teruaki. The boy's hand was still holding on Gentarou's forearm.

"No," he said into what was almost a snarl, his voice so different from before that Gentarou felt a shiver running down his spine. "Don't shoot."

"What?" Gentarou asked, his gaze going from the wounded man on the ground to the boy still clutching at his arm. "Have you gone insane? He killed your teacher! He almost killed you! You should want him to-"

"Leave him here," Teruaki said, voice hollow and cold and alien, causing Gentarou to blink. That didn't sound like him, didn't sound like him _at all_.

"What...?"

"Let him burn," the child said, his voice not changing and terrifying in its own way. It was emotionless, and cold, and cruel. "_Alive_."

"Teruaki, what...?" Nagisa began, but his voice faded almost immediately and he said nothing more, clearly overwhelmed by all that had been going on. Nitro still said nothing. But that mattered little, for Gentarou was paying attention to neither of them at the moment: he just stared at Teruaki for several moments. The child held his gaze for what was maybe the first time, and Gentarou saw something in his eyes, something dark and cold that wasn't there before.

For one moment he saw _himself_, and his mind was made. "Fine then. He'll burn," he heard himself saying.

"NO! You can't!" Pluto cried out, but Gentarou only laughed. It was no true laugh, though – it was something he couldn't quite define himself. But it was enough to make Pluto fall silent again, his whole body shaking.

"I can and will. You wanted to do the same for us; I'm returning the favor. Make a move, Pluto, just _one move_, and I'll shoot you in both knees before leaving you here anyway."

_Automatic incineration will take place in 3 minutes._

"Gentarou!" Nagisa called out, urgency plain in his voice. "We have to... we..." he paused and fell silent, and Gentarou knew that the realization was sinking in: having taken down Pluto had not changed the initial situation. At least one of them would have to stay behind.

All eyes went from Pluto to Nitro, who stared back with an anguished expression that perhaps would have meant something to Gentarou if only he could see his face, if only he could see some individuality in it. But instead there was nothing; nothing but the mask everyone wore. One like billions. A _nobody_.

"You already know it, don't you?" Gentarou said, his voice deadly quiet. "We have to choose between using card [2] or [4]. We cannot use both, because that would mean using six cards. This means that someone has to stay behind: either me or you. I have no plans on dying, Nitro – and I have a gun," he added, moving the gun to point it against him,.

Nitro's eyes went from him to Teruaki and Nagisa. "Are you... you agree with...?" he choked out almost pleadingly. It looked like Pluto had been right: any good intentions and generosity faded away in face of the possibility of burning alive. Gentarou couldn't blame him: he was intent to live himself, after all.

Teruaki said nothing and simply kept staring at Pluto's bleeding form. It was Nagisa to speak up.

"I'm sorry, Nitro," he said quietly. "The three of us went through too much together. So we'll leave together."

_Automatic incineration will take place in 2 minutes._

And what was all it took: a voice booming through the room over the blaring siren one more time was the last straw, what broke any of Nitro's hesitations, wiping away all rational thinking. With a cry that had little left of human, Nitro lunged for them in a desperate attempt at stopping them so that he wouldn't be left behind, so that he could _live_.

Gentarou pulled the trigger – once, twice, thrice, and three shots cracked out in quick succession. The kickback was strong enough to make him take a step back with each shot, but he barely even took notice: all he could stare at was Nitro's body twitching three times, a choking noise leaving him and red spots quickly growing on that ridiculous pink undershirt of his. He stood for one moment, a surprised expression on that unrecognizable face, then – without making another noise – he sank on the floor and didn't move anymore.

It was over. He was dead, dead by Gentarou's own hand, and he felt nothing about it. Absolutely nothing.

_It was me or him. I had to. He would have died anyway. This way was quicker. I used him a mercy._

Yes, he told himself – he had been merciful. He was guilty of nothing. _Nothing_.

"He's... dead, isn't he?" Nagisa asked, his voice shaking. Gentarou said nothing: he only nodded, and looked at Pluto. He was still on the floor where they had left him, looking absolutely terrified. Gentarou pointed the gun back at him and nodded towards the door.

"Let's go," he finally spoke.

_Automatic incineration will take place in 1 minute._

Neither Nagisa nor Teruaki needed any more reason to listen, and in a matter of instants they were in front of the numbered door – Nagisa fumbling to quickly pass all cards through the reader, Teruaki still staring at Pluto with no expression on his pale face.

"Please, wait! Don't leave me here!" Pluto begged, terror plain in his voice when the door began to open. "Y-you can still... I c-can still... _please_! PLEASE!" he screamed, struggling on his feet, the terror of burning alive lending him new strength. "Kill me now! At least shoot me! You still have a bullet! Shoot-!"

A deafening back caused him to scream, but he hadn't been hit: Gentarou had aimed for the ceiling, firing the last bullet. "Now there is none. Be a good boy and _burn_," he spat, then he threw the empty gun at him to join the other outside just as the door began closing. It shut with a loud, metallic clang on Pluto's dismayed cry. Only instants later they could hear the voice coming from the speakers again, partially muffled by the door.

_Nine... eight... seven... six... five... four... three... two... one..._

"God," Nagisa murmured, as though he was just now realizing that they had truly been inside and incinerator, that they _truly_ could have burned alive... and that someone else now would.

… Z_ero. Gates 2 and 3 are locked down. Beginning incineration._

Then the blaring stopped, and all that could be heard from the other side was the roar of flames... and Pluto's screams, closer to beastly howls of pain than to a human voice anymore.

He took a long time to die.


	11. Adrift

_A/N: this isn't precisely an action-packed chapter, but after what happened in the previous one I felt it would make sense having a somewhat "slower" one, to let the characters think over what happened a bit and generally set things up for the next one. Also, I felt like giving some spotlight on Musashidou and his own backstory since so far the fic has been prominently about the other three. He's going to be a Cradle executive as well, after all, so I decided to give him some more space._

* * *

"Well then, gentlemen. The game is over, and I believe I have won."

Musashidou's words broke a long, stunned silence, causing several of the other men and women in the lounge to recoil and turn to look at him. Musashidou couldn't hold back a smirk at the incredulity he could see on each face.

"You devil," Takahashi said, his voice halfway between admiration and resentment. "How in the world did you even _imagine_ this could happen?"

A laugh. "I had a hunch, that's all, and decided to follow it. Audaces Fortuna Iuvat, my friend – Fortune favors the daring. But please," Musashidou added, reaching to put his empty glass back on the small table next to his armchair, "do not be too eager to pay me my due. We have time, after all; I suppose we can wait until we have the boys on board. After the show they granted us, they do deserve at least a hot meal and an explanation. Do tell, how are we going to find the life boat once they lower it? I suppose it sends out a signal?" he asked. Perhaps it would take them more than the nine hours time limit to lower the life boat and get far enough from the Gigantic, but that was no issue: it wasn't like they truly had a time limit to solve it. Despite what the players were told to... motivate them, they never had any intention to sink the Gigantic.

His words didn't really seem to gain him any points with the others, but it mattered little: he had come to realize he simply was not meant to be someone popular when he was still very, very young, and he had never let it bother him. He didn't quite care of being disliked as long as he was respected, or of being even hated as long as he got his due.

When Ms. Sato spoke to answer, her voice was collected as always and even colder than usual. Hardly a surprise: number [7] had been her bet, and he had almost made it out. Almost. How rude of the poor sod, Musashidou thought with some amusement, getting a lady's hopes up like that and then just dying.

"Yes, that is right. As soon as the life boat is lowered, the signal will be sent every few minutes so that we'll always know its position. We'll give the helmsman instructions to sail the yacht to them as soon as the life boat is lowered from the ship. They can't get very far from the Gigantic by just rowing and only one of them is both strong enough and in physical condition to row, so he'll certainly take pauses. I'd say we'll likely catch up with them in a matter of a few hours."

Musashidou nodded. "Very well," was all he said before finally getting up from his armchair. The game had been quite exciting and the satisfaction of knowing he had won against all odds was even better, so there would be no point in letting thew sour atmosphere in the lounge spoil the moment. "I believe I'll go out on the deck; I need some fresh air," he added, and after a quick nod at the others he walked out.

He heard them start talking before the door behind him had even closed, but didn't even try to catch a few words: he had no reason to concern himself with whatever was said out of resentment by a few sore losers. And they certainly _were_ poor losers: Musashidou could almost imagine Gordain shaking his head at them. The old man had been a complete bastard but oh boy, he had been a _true_ gambler if he had ever met one.

It was half past two in the morning now, and the ocean around the yacht was pitch black; hadn't it been for the sound of waves as they sailed through them, Musashidou would have almost imagined that beneath them there was complete nothingness. The air was somewhat chilly, but he didn't mind; it was rather pleasant just leaning on the rail and listening to the waves, savoring the cool wind that smelled of salt. Certainly more pleasant than when _he_ had been the one in the life boat after the game had ended: that time the pleasant coolness had been chilling cold, and all he could smell was a stench of of dead fish, rotting seaweed and his own blood, oozing out from more wounds than he could recall and drenching shredded clothes.

People tend to fight back when they realize you have to kill them to keep living, and that you're desperate enough to it.

The memory caused him to scowl. He could smell blood again even though he knew it was only his imagination, that nothing was bleeding there. _Nothing_.

Musashidou reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a cigar: that always helped whenever that happened. He lit it with some difficulty, having to shield the lighter from the wind, but the moment he took the first intake of smoke the stench of blood he had thought he was smelling vanished.

Good.

He wasn't new to moments like that and they didn't bother him most of the time, but sometimes they did, and he would always light himself a cigar to put a stop to it. And there had been a time, in the first year or so that had followed his own involvement in Gordain's game – the worst way to find out how much of a bad idea not paying his gambling debts to Lord Dashiell Gordain on time was – when the sensation had terrified him. No matter where he was, how safe he was and how well he knew it was only his imagination: sometimes he would smell blood as though he was back in that ship again, stabbing a struggling man to death in a desperate fight to get out alive, and that rarely failed to make him lapse into a full-fledged panic attack.

"We all had them; you don't come out of the Game without scars, be them on your flesh or on your soul. Give it time and it will go away on its own," one of Gordain's other successors, one of those who had won the game through the years, had told him once in a rare moment of talkativeness about the subject.

And indeed, that _had_ changed: the sensation would come back from time to time even now, but there had been no panic attacks in years. He had found a way to live with it in the end, as the others had told him he would – but not without a price.

Musashidou's gaze fell on his own hand, where – years ago – he had worn a wedding ring. It hadn't been an especially good marriage, perhaps, but it hadn't been so bad, either. Looking back there may have not been much love, if any, but there was respect and an affinity he still missed from time to time. He had thought it would last despite his gambling addition, he truly had. And maybe his wife had as well – until he had been kidnapped, of course, only to reappear several days later in a hospital, with wounds he refused to explain.

That had been the first serious blow. Sadako had insisted to know what had happened, had _demanded_ to know what had happened, and he had refused to tell her anything. Not only because Gordain expected absolute secrecy from each member of his 'club', as he called it, but because he knew without a doubt that if he told her anything she'd go straight to the police – with the only significant result of getting him and herself killed. So he had kept quiet, told her he couldn't tell her anything and refused to spend one more word on the subject. That alone may have been enough to make most people leave, he supposed, but Sadako had stayed and he had been glad for that. Until, of course, those episodes had started.

Sadako was no idiot, and of course she had realized there had to be a correlation between those sudden panic attacks and whatever he had been through that he refused to tell her about. But instead of dropping the matter she had insisted over and over again, until he had found himself wishing he could make her stop asking, silence her for good so that she would no longer ask – and found himself having to fight harder and harder against the urge to wrap his hands around her neck and choke her so that she would just _leave him alone_.

Musashidou would never know if she had never seen the murderous intent in his eyes or if she just cared enough to take risks, but for whatever reason she had chosen to stay. The marriage had lasted maybe five more months, until the night he had almost killed her.

He remembered little of it: only that he had dreamed, for it had to be a dream, that he was back in the Gigantic – back in the incinerator, back to fighting to get out, the man he was stabbing screaming and squirming and the smell of was blood everywhere like the blaring of the siren, loud enough to hurt his ears but never enough to cover his victim's cries. He probably had cried out in his sleep, too – and that was likely the moment when Sadako had tried to shake him awake.

Next thing he knew was that he was pinning her down on the mattress, an arm on her throat pressing down, down, _down_ with all his weight – not even knowing who it was, only knowing it was a matter of killing or being killed and that he wanted to _live_. When his mind had finally, _finally_ snapped back into full awareness the choking noises she made were staring to die down and her face was a terrifying bluish color, her lips livid and eyes bloodshot.

He could never forget the convulsive breaths she had drawn in the moment he had pulled back with a start, babbling something he couldn't even remember now, nor the way she had cried when she had finally regained some breath again. He had never heard her crying before: she was not one for tears.

The very next day it had been him to call a lawyer to file the divorce papers. He had come to the conclusion he was too dangerous for her – or anyone, for the matter – to stay near him, so divorce had been the only possible solution. She had not argued that decision; Musashidou supposed that almost being killed was a rather eye-opening experience, and she had come to realize she simply could not stay without her life being at risk. She had made him promise he'd seek professional help last time they had met, and he had promised – a lie, for he could not speak to anyone about what had happened in the days he had been missing, but she couldn't know it. As far as Musashidou knew, she had remarried a couple of years later and now had a child.

As for him, he had learned to live with the occasional episodes without lapsing into a panic attack with no need of a shrink; at the very worst, he would need a cigar and everything would be fine – as it was now.

Musashidou slowly exhaled some smoke and leant against the rail once again. But this time, instead of glancing down, he looked up. Even though everything was different – there was no smell of blood and death, he was on a yacht and not going adrift on a life boat, he was satisfied with himself for the victory and not terrified beyond words at the thought he may have survived a game he did not understand only to die on a life boat in the middle of the ocean – there was one thing that looked precisely as it had looked that night nine years before: the stars. Countless and luminous, they seemed to close he could almost believe he could reach out to touch them. Musashidou remembered distinctly having that same thought when he lay on his back on the life boat, too tired and in pain to row, letting the waves bring him where they would.

It felt like it had been a lifetime, he reasoned, taking another long drag from the cigar. And very soon the boys would be in the same situation he and every other survivor of Gordain's Game had been into: drifting in the middle of an ocean at night, wondering if anyone would come to pick them up or if they'd die there, be it for any wounds or of thirst and hunger.

The anguish of those moments, with a million unanswered questions in their mind, was something they wouldn't easily forget; he sure hadn't. It was a good thing they no longer had weapons on them, having left them behind when they had left the incinerator: Musashidou had been told that once, many years before, a survivor had shot himself on the life boat before the yacht Gordain and his men were into could reach him. He had died before he could find out that by just _living_ he had gained himself membership of a very, very peculiar club... a membership whose refusal would be a death warrant, but that was never explicitly stated.

"At least the boys will have it easier," Musashidou mused aloud after releasing a cloud of smoke that immediately was blown away by the wind. Yes, the boys – _his_ boys – would definitely have it easier because at least they were together. The worst part of his hours on the life boat had been being alone, with neither an enemy to fight for survival nor anyone he could turn to while facing the crushing doubt he may have lived through the game and drenched his hands in blood only to die of starvation on a small life boat in the middle of the ocean.

But this time there was more than just one survivor, and Musashidou was sure the three of them could hang on for a few more hours – just enough time for them to reach them and get the on the yacht. And then... then they could finally meet personally. They were such a fascinating bunch, Musashidou thought, each of them piquing his curiosity – and he couldn't wait to exchange a few words with them.

He was certain it was going to be... interesting.

* * *

Gentarou turned away from the metal door that separated them from the incinerator after what felt like an eternity, when the roar of flames began to die down and a long time after the screams had stopped. He licked his dry lips and turned to his left, where Nagisa had been standing when the door had closed behind them. And he still stood there, staring at the closer door exactly like Gentarou had; it was only after a few moments that slowly turned to look back at Gentarou, perhaps sensing his gaze.

There were a few moments of silence as they just stared at each other. In the end it was Gentarou to break it, and in his own voice he heard the same stunned calmness he could see plainly on Nagisa's anonymous face. "I killed them," he heard himself saying. And it was then, only then, that the full implication of what he had said dawned on him: he had killed two men, shot one and left the other to burn alive while he could have saved him as well. Killed them, with his own two hands. And he felt... he felt nothing about it.

Absolutely _nothing_.

"_We_ killed them," Nagisa spoke, his own voice raspy. "Both of us. _All three_ of us. We all agreed on leaving Pluto behind. He deserved what he got," he added, his voice now harsher as the sense of unreality began fading. "He would have left us behind as well."

"True. But then there's Nitro. _I _shot him," Gentarou murmured. He hadn't enjoyed having to, for the man had done nothing to deserve such a fate – but he still felt no guilt over it: he had no choice. But it still felt odd to think that he had ended a man's life just like that, with just the pull of a trigger. He stared down at his hands as though they did not belong to him.

It was Nagisa's voice to snap him from his thoughts. "If you hadn't killed him, _I_ would have," he said coldly, causing Gentarou to look back up at him in surprise. Nagisa sighed. "I'm sorry it had to happen. I liked him. He was a good man. But it was you or him, and... you said we'd win our way out of there, remember?" he added with a weak smile. "And we did, all three of us. But he had to go. I wasn't leaving you inside."

Gentarou found himself returning the weak smile. "Thank you," he said. He wondered if he could have said the same in Nagisa's place, and it was with some measure of surprise that he found himself truly thinking that yes, he would have. He wouldn't have _died_ for him or anyone else, his own survival being his ultimate goal... but yes, he _would_ have killed Nitro if the choice was between him and Nagisa; even with no logical reason to prefer either, he still would have.

The idea suddenly made him feel uncomfortable: it was not a way of thinking he was accustomed to, for outside his immediate family he had never given any human being any more value than he'd give to any other stranger he could see on the street. In the end Gentarou cleared his throat and chose to change subject.

"We should get moving. This ship may start sinking any moment," he finally said, looking at the long spiral staircase behind them. It went up and up as far as he could see, and he hoped it would bring them outside, hoped that the nightmare was finally drawing to an end.

Nagisa nodded. "Yes, let's go. Teruaki?"

No answer. Gentarou, who had almost forgotten about the child's presence, turned back to the door to see he was still there, right in front of it. He had not moved an inch: he just stood there, expressionless, staring at the door in silence – just as he had from the first moment, when the fire had started roaring and Pluto had begun screaming.

"We have to move," Gentarou repeated. "Teruaki, do you hear me? We must go. There isn't much time left before this ship sinks. We have to find a… a life boat, or whatever the hell there is here. Just come with us, okay? Teruaki...?"

For a few more, long moments the child just kept standing there and staring at the door, gaze unfocused behind thick lenses. Then he slowly – so slowly, as though he couldn't move any faster, as though moving more quickly would break his trance and make him crumble – brought his hands to his head, and his breathing quickened and he shut his eyes and-

Gentarou winced when the boy gave a wordless, drum-shattering shriek. Something inside him seemed to have broken, snapped free, whirled away into the static in his head – and when he no longer had breath, when the scream died down, he fell eerily quiet again and fell on his knees on the floor like a puppet whose strings were cut.

For a moment neither Gentarou nor Nagisa said anything: they only turned to stare at each other in silence, and Gentarou was certain that they were thinking the same thing – that whatever sanity Teruaki had been left was gone for good. He was a wreck and was never going to be alright again, given that he had ever truly been: the ordeal had broken him in a way that could never be fixed, no matter the amount of therapy he'd likely get in the years to come. It would be like trying to fix a vase that had shattered in a thousand pieces: even if one could manage to glue all the pieces back together the vase would show all the cracks, would never again properly hold water and it would break again at the slightest pressure.

"Teruaki," Nagisa finally called out, walking up to him and awkwardly crouching down to put a hand on his shoulder. Gentarou could tell, from the grimace he could not completely hide, that his broken arm was hurting once more now that the adrenaline was starting to wear down.

The child didn't wince nor he looked up at him, but he spoke; his voice was so hollow and emotionless that Gentarou could barely even recognize it. "He said she was brought here because of me," he said flatly. It didn't take a genius to know what he exactly was talking about. Nagisa sighed.

"It wasn't your fault. Whoever set up this damn game is to blame, not you. Pluto killed her, not you. You know that, right? Right?" he insisted, giving the child's shoulder a small shake.

Teruaki kept staring at the floor, saying nothing, and Gentarou scowled, his patience wearing thin. They had maybe twenty minutes left before that damn ship began sinking, and they didn't have one minute to lose. The kid was going to have to save his guilt for _later_.

"If you don't move now, she will have died for nothing," Gentarou said sharply. That shook Teruaki out of his trance in a way Nagisa's words could not: he winced, and looked up at him as though he had just spoken in a foreign language. All of a sudden he was once again the terrified little boy he had met almost nine hours earlier, and that was good – _that_ was the one he could get to do what he said.

"W-what...?"

"Murakami wanted you to make it out. She wanted you to live so much that if necessary she would have been willing to _stay behind_ so that you could escape. She told us as much back behind Door [4]. She said-" Gentarou trailed off, suddenly reminded of something that had happened in the kitchen, something he had brushed aside as meaningless – Murakami holding Teruaki tight and saying something in his ear back in the kitchen. "The knife," he said slowly. "The kitchen knife you had in your pocket, the one you used to stab Pluto – it was from the kitchen, wasn't it? This ship's kitchen. Murakami gave you that, didn't she?"

Teruaki nodded, finally allowing Nagisa to help him back on his feet. "Yes. She t-t-told me to k-keep it hidden. S-said it was j-just to... t-t-that she wanted me to stay s-safe."

Nagisa gave him a brave attempt at a smile. "See? She wanted you to be safe. And you are now – but we must go, alright? Up those stairs and... and then out, I hope. We must leave this ship before it sinks, get back to civilization and then go to the police. The people who did this must pay, right? Not just Pluto – all of them. For Murakami and... and the others, too. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Teruaki drew in a deep, trembling breath, then he finally nodded. "A-alright," he murmured, giving one last, long glance at the door before finally turning his back to it. Gentarou smiled.

"That's more like it. Let's go," he said, and they finally began climbing up the stairs as quickly as they could. It was a very, very long spiral staircase and it took them more than Gentarou was comfortable with to reach the top – but in the end they did and in front of them was a small, metal door. Gentarou grabbed the handle and pulled. He had only one moment to fear the worst – that the door would not open, that all their struggled had been for naught and that they would be trapped there no matter what, doomed to sink with the ship – before the door opened with a clang and cool, cool air rushed in his lungs, the sight of an impossibly starry sky greeting him.

They were out.

And in front of them, hanging on the side of the ship as though in wait, was a life boat ready to be lowered.

* * *

"Musashidou, sir?"

Snapped from his – admittedly rather morbid – thoughts, Musashidou turned away from the night sky and glanced back at the man who had called out for him, some waiter whose only duty on board was serving them their drinks and whose name he never bothered to remember. "What is it?"

"The signal has been sent out. The winners have lowered the life boat and are currently moving away from the Gigantic. We estimate we'll reach them it three hours at most."

Musashidou shook his head disapprovingly. "That long? My, we keep the yacht too far away from the ship."

"You know it's a matter of safety, sir. While unlikely, there _is_ always a chance someone from outside notices the ship – and if that happens we have to be far enough not to raise suspects."

A sigh. "These people really don't like taking risks, do they? One should wonder why even bother to gamble," he muttered. "Oh well, I suppose I can keep my curiosity at bay for a few more hours. Let us proceed, then," he added, and that was all the time he was willing to spare on the man: the next moment he was turning back to the sea and taking another drag from his cigar, once against lost in thought.

* * *

As the shadow of the huge ship they had been into completely faded away from their sight, blurring into the darkness all around them, Gentarou could _feel_ his euphoria upon being out of there start to fade away. Not only because his arms were hurting with strain from rowing incessantly, not only because a damp coldness was starting to make him shiver despite the workout – but because as the full implications of their new situation began dawning in his mind, he realized they were still far from being out of danger.

They may be out of the ship, yes, but they were in a life boat in the middle of hell knew what ocean with nothing but darkness all around them, a couple of blankets, a small oil lamp that was barely enough to be able to see each other, little water, no food and the frightening certainty that nobody knew where they _were_. Nobody but the sick fucks who had put them in that situation to begin with, and somehow Gentarou failed to find it reassuring.

He tried not to think about it, tried to just keep rowing and rowing and rowing so that they would be as far as possible from the ship when it sank – did it sink yet? Was it sinking right now? He couldn't tell, it was too dark and the ship too far and he could only hear the sound of wavers against the life boat – but in the end he had to stop, his arms and shoulders screaming for mercy. He pulled the rows back into the life boat and looked at the other two for the first time since the moment he had started rowing.

At the weak light of the oil lamp he could see that Teruaki was resting on his side on the bottom of the boat, his head resting on a bunch of rope. He was wrapped into one of the blankets and shivering slightly, but clearly asleep. He was giving Gentarou his back, so he couldn't tell whether that was merely for the cold or because his was an uneasy sleep... but, to be honest, Gentarou couldn't truly be bothered to truly check. Nagisa was resting against the boat's prow, a blanket over his shoulders, the broken arm still hanging to his neck and his gaze empty, lost somewhere in the darkness around them.

Seeing him like that worried Gentarou almost more than their current situation did, just like seeing him crying back in the engine room had: it didn't matter if Teruaki was broken, but Nagisa couldn't break – he _needed_ him not to, because he couldn't handle that shit alone. It was too much.

"Nagisa," he called out, coming to sit next to him.

Nagisa recoiled just a little, but did not turn to look at him. His gaze stayed fixed on the blackness around them. "Do you think anyone will find us?" he asked, very quietly. It was obvious that he had realized as well how bad their situation was, and how.

Gentarou swallowed. "Of course," he said, desperately trying to actually believe what he was saying. "Someone will find us sooner or later. I'm sure."

"Sooner or later," Nagisa repeated flatly. "But _how_ later? We have only a water bottle here, and no food. We don't even know where we are. _No one_ knows where we are."

"Whoever put us on the ship knows," Gentarou countered. "Maybe... maybe they'll let authorities know where we may be. We won their game. They can't just let us die here."

"And what makes you so sure?" Nagisa snapped, finally turned to glare at him. His eyes were reddened, the haunted look in them making Gentarou's mouth go dry. "They're sick enough to make people fight and die for their amusement! Why should they bother to get us rescued? They're probably just laughing at their joke now, they-" Nagisa trailed off with a noise that sounded suspiciously like a choked sob and fell silent once again. He stayed silent for a few long minutes – they both did – and when he spoke again his voice was dull, and distant. "Say. Have you ever read a book called 'And Then There Were None'?"

Gentarou couldn't say he liked that title, nor he liked where that may be going. But he tried to keep his worry in check and spoke quietly. "No, I never read it."

"It's about ten people who get invited to a house on an island. No way to get away. But their host does not show up. Instead, on the first evening they hear a rhyme about ten soldier boys dying one by one. And then the guests start dying. One by one, just like in the rhyme. The guests know it has to be one of them, but they can't figure out who it is and they keep dying. Until there is none left; not the victims, not their murderer," Nagisa said. His dull tone and distant gaze made his words even more ominous.

"There was nine of us. Not ten," Gentarou pointed out, unnerved by the comparison. "And not all of us died. We lived, and _will_ live. We won't just... we cannot... we'll make it, alright? I refuse to-" he was cut off when Nagisa began speaking again, his voice almost a whisper, and he realized he was not actually speaking: that was... some kind of rhyme.

"Four little soldier boys going out to sea; a red herring swallowed one and then there were three," Nagisa murmured. He turned his head just enough to glance down at Teruaki's sleeping form, his eyes empty. "Three little soldier boys walking in the zoo; a big bear hugged one and then there were two."

Gentarou swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. A cold chill ran down his spine. "Stop," he said hoarsely. "Stop that."

But Nagisa didn't stop, didn't even seem to hear him. "Two little soldier boys sitting in the sun; one got frizzled up and then there was one."

"Nagisa-"

Nagisa laughed, lowly enough not to wake Teruaki up – but it was no true laugh. It was the sound Gentarou would associate with the padded cell of a madman. "One little soldier boy left all alone; he went out and hanged himself and then there were no-"

"ENOUGH!"

Gentarou's cry seemed to snap Nagisa out of some kind of trance. He recoiled, and blinked blearily at him as though he had just been woken up. On the bottom of the life boat, Teruaki awoke with a start and looked up at them with empty eyes, as though barely even comprehending who he was, and where they were.

"We will not die. Not now," Gentarou almost snarled, reaching to grab Nagisa's shoulders as though wanting to shake him, only refraining because the other boy's arm was broken. "I refuse to give up now! We won their damn game! We WON!"

Nagisa stared back for a few moments, then he drew in a trembling breath. "But where _are_ we? Who will pick us up? Will _anyone _pick us up?"

Gentarou swallowed. "I... I don't know. But someone will have to. They're probably looking for us. So we can wait and see. We have water, and... and it will be enough for a bit," he added. "And going on and on muttering creepy rhymes will do us no good. Stop it. Stop thinking about it. And you get back to sleep," he added, turning to Teruaki and making an effort to soften his voice. "It's alright. We'll be alright."

The child said nothing: he only gave him one apathetic glance before settling down on the bottom of the lifeboat and curling under the blanked in a fetal position again – only that this time he rested his head on Nagisa's leg. Gentarou stared at him for a few moments – he knew he was broken, but he was still unsettling to look at – then sighed and leaned against the side of the boat as well, beside Nagisa. "We'll be alright," he repeated, suddenly feeling exhausted, and didn't even move when Nagisa leant his head on his left shoulder. The air around them was cold and humid, he had to rip off his shirt's sleeves long ago and Nagisa felt pleasantly warm on his bare skin.

"Do you really think we'll make it?" Nagisa murmured close to his ear, so that Teruaki couldn't hear him.

Gentarou sighed. "I have to," he said, and looked up at the sky, at the countless stars above them – the only light in the blackness around them, aside from the weak light cast by the oil lamp on the bottom of the boat. "They look close, don't they?" he said, more to get Nagisa's mind and his own away from their situation.

"Yes. You don't see them like this ashore, but I don't think I'll miss the sight much once we're back home," was the reply, and Gentarou was relieved by the change – now Nagisa spoke of _when_ they'd go home, and no longer seemed to wonder _if_ they would. Or at least he was trying not to. Still, a good sign.

"Me neither," he found himself replying. "Say, would you mind sharing at blanket? It's cold," he added. There was a bit of adjusting needed, with Nagisa careful not to move his broken arm and the leg Teruaki was now using as a pillow, but in a matter of a few moments they were once again resting back, pressed close to share some warmth and the blanket across both of them. There were a few more moments of silence as they both kept staring up at the night sky.

"How familiar are you with Western zodiac?"

The sudden question caused Gentarou to blink, but he decided to go along: idle chat was always better than keeping silent and sinking back into despair. Maybe that was the reason why Nagisa had brought it up in the first place: he was trying to keep his mind busy with lighter subjects than the possibility of dying adrift on a life boat.

"I know almost nothing," he replied. "I can't say it's a field that interests me. What about it?"

A shrug. "I was just trying to recall what my stepfather told me about it. You know, to focus on something else. When were you born?"

"August."

"What day?"

"August first."

"Then you're a Leo. It's a Sun sign," Nagisa said, making a vague gesture in the air with his good hand.

"Huh. What about it?"

Nagisa gave a weak chuckle. "Now you're asking too much. I can tell your element would be fire, but nothing past that. I'm no expert."

Gentarou smiled, glad to hear that chuckle: he'd rather not have to deal with a desperate Nagisa again. He needed him as his ally still. He nodded and looked back up at the sky. "And what about you?"

"Just about your total opposite. Cancer. Moon sign, the element being water. But hey, now don't go asking about love compatibility!" he added, elbowing Gentarou lightly and causing him to blink before giving a small, somewhat uncomfortable snort.

"Wasn't about to, thank you _so_ much."

"You don't know what you're missing."

"_What?"_

Nagisa chuckled again. "Just kidding, just kidding. No need to get defensive only because this," he added with a vague gesture, clearly alluding at the way they were resting close under the same blanket, "looks all kinds of wrong from outside."

"And then you tell me I should be forbidden to joke. That's not a mental image I _wanted_," Gentarou muttered, looking away from the sky and back at Teruaki's sleeping form. He hadn't moved at all in those past few minutes: still huddled into his blanket, still resting his head on Nagisa's leg. It couldn't be too comfortable, but Gentarou assumed it was still better than the rope... and maybe it was more of a reassurance, even in his sleep, that he was not alone and that someone else was there with him.

Nagisa had to follow his gaze, for when he spoke again he was clearly referring to the child. "He will never recover, will he?"

"I don't think so, no."

"He almost scared me, back outside the incinerator. When he screamed. It was like... I don't know. I never heard anything like that before. I hope I never will again."

Gentarou nodded. "Same here," he said, then, "I didn't expect him to turn on Pluto. I really thought he wanted to leave with him for a moment."

"Same. I had no idea he had a knife, and even if I did I wouldn't have thought he'd use it. I didn't think he'd have it in him to try," Nagisa murmured. "We underestimated him, and so did Pluto. He dug his grave when he taunted him about killing Murakami. But..." he hesitated before speaking again. "Can I ask something?"

"What is it?"

"What happened inside the incinerator?" Nagisa asked, turning to glance at him even though they were so close already. "You began acting odd all of a sudden, said you heard something none of us heard, and then you suddenly knew it had been Pluto. Just like that. So... what happened? How did that happen?"

Gentarou hesitated, thinking back of the voice – no, the _voices_ – he had heard back in the incinerator. With all that had happened he had no time to dwell on it, but now... now he did wonder. Whose voices were those? What were they saying? Why? And why was he the only one to hear them? _How_ had he heard them?

"Gentarou...?"

Recoiling at the sound of Nagisa's voice, he sighed. "You'll think I'm insane."

Nagisa shook his head. "No. I've already seen what the definition of insane is, and it's not you. Besides, whatever happened back there _had_ to be real. You _did_ know Pluto was the murderer, and you were right."

"No, I... I didn't know who the murderer was yet. I only knew I had to look for someone left-handed. That was why I threw both him and Nitro the watch, remember? I knew it could only be one of them by that point. And I knew that because... something... made me think back of the marks on Murakami's face."

A sigh. "You're avoiding the question, aren't you?"

"No, I-"

"Then define _something_."

Gentarou sighed. "Alright. I heard a voice. Two voices."

"Voices?" Nagisa repeated after a moment of silence, as though wanting to make sure he had heard well.

"Yes. It was a boy and a girl. She sounded more like a child than him. And they kept repeating something, like a... a riddle, I think. Something about the sinister hand. And then I had this moment when I just got it. An epiphany, if you will. I just thought back of Murakami, and of the marks, and this sinister hand... I knew it meant the left hand. And then I just..."

"Knew?" Nagisa finished for him. He sounded incredulous, but still fascinated.

Gentarou nodded. "Exactly! I suddenly just _knew_ that Murakami's murderer had to be left-handed. And I knew it couldn't be Mercury or Venus, because they used their right hand when they killed each other to get out of that room, and that it couldn't be Mars because she was too small, and that it couldn't be either of you two. I knew it had to be either Nitro or Pluto. So I threw them both the watch to see how they'd catch it, and when Pluto used his left hand I was sure. And I was _right_," he finished, putting all emphasis he could on the last word. He knew his tale had to sound insane, he knew that Nagisa probably wouldn't believe it, but that last part – that he had been _right_ – was a fact that Nagisa couldn't dismiss.

There was a long silence before Nagisa finally spoke. "Somehow," he said, "this isn't even the most unbelievable thing I've heard today."

Gentarou released the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. "I know it's odd as hell and I have _no idea_ how that even happened, but-"

"You don't have to convince me you told the truth," Nagisa cut him off. "I believe you. I can't imagine how it was possible and... look, maybe it was some kind of trick from their part, but I know you're not lying, okay?"

"You must think I was hallucinating, then," Gentarou muttered. It was a possibility he couldn't rule out himself, but on the other hand he had felt so _real_ he couldn't quite bring himself to believe he had just imagined it all.

Nagisa shrugged. "Maybe it was. But in that case it was the most fucking useful hallucination in history, because it probably saved our lives. Hell knows what could have happened in that incinerator if we didn't find out who Pluto was, and what he did. We could have been the ones left behind to burn."

Gentarou sighed and nodded. "True. But we didn't. We lived and we're going to _stay_ alive."

"You bet we're going to. Someone has to _pay_ for this," Nagisa said, a vicious note in his voice. He stared down at Teruaki's sleeping form, his jaw set. Gentarou smiled tiredly.

"Now I recognize you," he said, then he had to hold back a yawn. Because he was tired, God, he was _so_ tired and his arms hurt from rowing. And maybe sleeping wasn't such a bad idea: it would help them pass time and regain strength. Besides, dark as it was none of them could even hope to see anything and there was no point in rowing and rowing without even knowing where they were going.

His yawn caused Nagisa to yawn as well. "Tired, huh?"

"So are you, if I'm not mistaken."

"True. Maybe we should just... sleep, at least until dawn?"

"That's what I was thinking; we're not getting much done until it's day anyway. Now, if you could get that elbow out of my ribcage and stop stealing the whole blanket..."

They needed some more adjustments before they both could settle down comfortably enough, still close and with the blanket over them. By the time they did, Gentarou wasn't too surprised by the fact Teruaki hadn't even stirred: he had to be absolutely exhausted. As he was, after all.

"What about the oil lamp?" Nagisa asked, his voice already laced thickly with sleep.

"Let it on for now. It will give us a chance of being seen should a ship pass by while it's still dark," Gentarou answered. He didn't really think they could be that lucky, but he wasn't going to take the risk of having a ship passing right by the life boat without noticing them, or maybe even hitting them.

Nagisa didn't try to argue: he just leant his head comfortably on Gentarou's shoulder again, and in a matter of minutes they were both deep asleep, drawing some comfort in the little warmth they could share and almost rocked by the waves.

They were still sleeping when, in the cold gray light of dawn, a yacht appeared at the horizon heading in their direction.


	12. Gordain's Heirs

_A/N: this chapter was supposed to be a LOT shorter than this. _XD_ But at least it didn't get so long I'd have to cut it in two. It's not the last, though: there will be one more chapter after this one, a bit like an epilogue._

_Also, I'm replying here to _Luckenhaft_'s reviews since there is no "reply" feature for guest reviews. First off: thanks a lot for the reviews! About the puzzle in the 9th chapter, I did play VLR and that probably influenced my choice of language (that, and the fact I studied Latin back in high school: at least I knew what I was talking about). The puzzle itself, lousy as it is, is one I came up with myself. Nothing terribly original, though. I know. _XD  
_As for the voices Gentarou hears, those are Akane and Junpei. He got a glimpse in the moment when Akane will send that message (seen in the Safe Ending) to Junpei in the True Ending, so that he can let Snake out of the coffin. And yes, the number 9 sure IS recurring in the Zero Escape series - so I wanted to work on that for this fic, too._

* * *

Gentarou's sleep was not an easy one.

Once awake he would never be able to recall precisely what he had dreamed: he would only know that there were screams and blood and unknown, identical faces staring at him through roaring flames. That, and two voices that didn't belong to anyone he knew repeating something whose true meaning he wouldn't fully grasp.

_Truth has gone, truth has gone and truth has gone. Ah, Truth is now asleep in the darkness of the sinister hand._

_Truth is now asleep._

_Truth..._

"... has gone."

Those words came to Gentarou's lips without him even realizing it, the very same moments his eyes cracked open. And the next moment he had to close them again, for the sun was rising and he was facing it. Only then he realized where he exactly was and what had happened: for those brief instants between awareness and sleep his mind had allowed him the luxury to forget.

But now he was awake, and the harsh reality came crashing back down on him: they were on a life boat in the middle of hell knew what ocean, at the mercy of the sea, with little water and no food... and very small chances of being found. As he had expected, no ship had come to pick them up that night.

With a sigh, Gentarou tried to reach up to rub his eyes. His right arm and shoulder screamed in protest – God, he _knew_ he was going to feel all that desperate rowing – but what startled him was that he couldn't move his left arm at all. He looked down, somewhat alarmed, and felt like an idiot when he realized why he couldn't: Nagisa, who had simply been resting his head on his shoulder when they fallen asleep, had slouched down as they slept – with the result that he was now using Gentarou's whole left side as a pillow, trapping his arm.

And he hadn't been the only one to move, Gentarou thought when he realized that Teruaki had moved as well and was now between him and Nagisa, still wrapped in his blanket, his shoulder blades pressing a little painfully against Gentarou's side. Damn, he sure was _bony_. Still, Gentarou couldn't quite complain: it had been a cold night, and at least that way he could get some warmth the blanket alone wouldn't have been able to give him.

It took him a couple of minutes to disentangle himself from the other two without waking up the other two. Not that he would have felt especially guilty for waking them up after they used him as a damn pillow, but he'd rather not have them awake for the next minute or so. He didn't really fancy having a public while he urinated off board. Sure, the situation at hand made that worry pretty ridiculous, but his bladder was throbbing and he would worry again over their desperate position after allowing himself at least _that_ relief.

And granted, it _was_ a relief. Gentarou allowed himself a long sigh before he zipped up his trousers again, trying not to think of how damn _hungry_ he was and how little the water they had was going to last. Maybe two days, he thought, and then what?

_Then we'll die. If no one finds us, we'll die here._

Gentarou forced himself to take in a long breath of that cool, damp air and looked out at the horizon, when the sun was rising. He could see absolutely nothing – no land, not the ship they had been trapped into, not any _other_ ship. It was only water as far as eye could see. Ocean and nothing else, all around them.

Desperation starting to leak in around the self-imposed calm, Gentarou ground his teeth and turned abruptly to the others. His intention had been that of calling out for them, waking them up so that he wouldn't be the only one awake with such thoughts – he couldn't handle it on his own, he just _couldn't_ – but any words he had been about to utter died in his throat when his gaze fell on the horizon behind them, on the opposite side of the rising sun.

There was a ship there, a large yacht coming right in their direction, silent as a ghost on gray water.

For a moment, Gentarou could say nothing: all he could do was staring stupidly at the yacht, his mind barely able to register what he was seeing. He closed his eyes for a few moments, shook his head and looked again. Part of him had expected the illusion to vanish, but it had not: the yacht was still there, coming closer and closer, and now Gentarou could make out the figures of people moving on the upper deck. As though in a dream, he saw one of them waving an arm in their direction.

It was no illusion, he realized. It was real, all he was seeing was real – someone had found them, and they were safe. _Safe._

"Nagisa! Teruaki!" Gentarou called out in a bark of laughter, immediately kneeling down to shake them both. That got a yelp out of Nagisa – Gentarou had entirely forgotten of his broken arm – and a sluggish mutter from Teruaki as he sat up and blinked up at him like a sleepy owl.

"_Yowch!"_

"W-wha...?"

"A ship! There's a ship coming! Come on, get up!" Gentarou exclaimed, and that was more than enough for Nagisa to forget all about the pain in his broken arm. He struggled to his feet, almost falling off board when the blanket tangled in his feet, and turned to look at the approaching yacht. His mouth hang open for a few moments before he could will himself to speak.

"I can't fucking believe this," he muttered. "So it's... is it...?"

Gentarou nodded. "Yeah," he said quietly, reaching to put a hand on Teruaki's shoulder when he reached to grasp Gentarou's vest so that a sudden wave rocking the boat wouldn't make him fall. "It's over."

He had never been wronger in his life.

* * *

Relieved as he was, Gentarou hadn't wondered for one single moment about the ship they had just been helped onto by some silent crewmen. It didn't truly matter what that ship was or who was in it: all that mattered was knowing that they weren't going to die on a life boat in the middle of an ocean and really, that was more than enough. It was only when he noticed the group of maybe twenty men and women, all dressed in formal attires and elegant suits that were probably worth more money than his parents' monthly income, that he wondered who had exactly found them. What was that? Some kind of business cruise?

Not that they did much to explain: for a few moments all of them only stared at them in silence, barely murmuring to one another, as they stood in front of them. Gentarou couldn't completely blame them, though: they had to look like they had been to war and back. Nagisa's broken arm hanging to his neck in a makeshift cast, Gentarou's head was still bandaged with his own sleeve and Teruaki was as much of a mess, covered in black soot where tears had left tracks, with a cracked lens and a dark bruise on his cheek. He would probably wonder as well in their place. Still, the way they stared at them was _unnerving_.

He was about to try speaking himself, if anything to ask for some water or food, when one of them stepped forward. He was a man with a prominent belly, inky black hair and mustache, and he was smiling – which made him look by far the friendliest of the bunch.

"Why, look what we fished up. For heaven's sake, what's happened to you?"

There was a raspy laugh, and it took Gentarou a few moments to realize it had come from his own throat. "That's... that's a long story," he said, his voice as raspy as the laugh had been.

"W-we were o-o-o-on a s-ship, and we... t-there were... they... M-miss M-m-murakami..." Teruaki tried to speak, but his attempt was doomed from the start; it was simply too much, and whatever precarious balance his mind had found was shattered. In mere moments his voice broke and he began crying and blubbering, sobs shaking his whole frame and preventing him from forming any more coherent words. Nagisa looked down at him helplessly.

"Oh my. Now, now, no need to cry," the man said, sounding genuinely concerned. He walked up to Teruaki and crouched in front of him, pulling a tissue out of his breast pocket. He handed it to the blubbering child, but instead of taking it Teruaki buried his face in the man's suit, shaking hands holding on the lapels of his jacket, and kept crying his heart out without even trying to speak again. The concern on the man's face turned into surprise, then into something else Gentarou was too tired to even try defining.

"Now, now. It's alright, boy, you'll be alright. You're safe," he said, picking up Teruaki and standing, apparently uncaring of the mess the child was certainly doing of his shirt and tie. He was not a tall man – he was actually rather short – but he was broad, and Teruaki was so skinny he looked like a rag doll in his arms. His face stayed buried in the man's shirt, his back shuddering with sobs he was no longer trying to mute. The man rubbed his back soothingly, and frowned. "Goodness gracious, you're icy. Let's go inside, you need to warm up. And maybe eat something, yes? You too, of course," he added, looking back at Gentarou and Nagisa. "You look exhausted, boys. You certainly could use a hot meal."

The mention of food made Gentarou's empty stomach clench painfully. "Yes, we..." he licked his lips and realized only then that they were dry and chapped. "We also... we should call the police. There are... some people died," was all he managed to utter, and found himself wondering if anyone would even believe them now that the ship had likely sunk. Would they believe he was making it up, or that he was only imagining things? No, he told himself, they couldn't – not if Nagisa and Teruaki said the same, too. They would believe them, or at least look into it. They _had_ to look into it!

The man nodded, Teruaki still in his arms. "Of course, of course. You don't have to tell us the details now, my boy – just think of eating something. Gentlemen," he added, turning to the others – who, Gentarou only then truly noticed, had not said a word the whole time and had just _stared_ – and giving them a slight nod. "I believe someone should tell the crew it's time we head for the mainland. Let me take care of them from now on. There already is something ready to eat, isn't it? Of course there is, as always. What about your arm, boy? Is it broken?"

Nagisa, who hadn't said a word until that moment, recoiled and nodded quickly. "I... yes. I think it is."

"Then we should take care of that, too. Can you send in the doctor as well? With some blankets and clean shirts, too; I'm certain the boys won't mind the poor fit. Will you? Wonderful," he added jovially without even waiting for a reply. "This ways, boys," he added, and – with Teruaki starting to finally calm down in his arms – he turned to a door that led to the yacht lower deck.

Gentarou and Nagisa exchanged only a quick glance before following him, giving the other men and women on the deck no more thought.

Looking back only hours later, Gentarou Hongou would find himself wondering how could they not realize, how could they not _know_ who those men had to be: the pieces were there, and they all _fit_. Perhaps, he would reason, they had been willfully blind. A part of them had guessed, perhaps, and yet they had _chosen_ not to see. The human mind does have the tendency to ignore bad signs after having been through too much – a self-defense mechanism of sorts when it's been through too much, when it cannot bear more strain, when there is a desperate need to believe that the nightmare is over and that everything will be alright. And, for a while, that was exactly what they had thought: that it was _over_.

But they wouldn't be allowed to live that wonderful illusion for long.

* * *

Gentarou would have never imagined how just how good small things like a shower, a clean shirt and clean bandages on the wound on his forehead could make him feel. The man – Musashidou, as he had said his name was – had been right: he surely didn't mind the poor fit at all, nor did Teruaki despite the fact the shirt he had been given looked more like a nightgown on him. Nagisa was wearing no shirt at all at the moment, but his broken arm was now into an actual cast and a blanket was thrown over his shoulders, so he didn't seem up to complain, either.

By the time they sat at the small table to finally, _finally_ eat something, Teruaki was no longer crying and Nagisa gave a smile that actually did _look_ like a smile. Until, of course, Musashidou walked back in with a few plates of food – then all they could focus onto was stuffing their mouth like hungry wolves. There had been moments when they all had thought they would never get to eat again, that whatever they had in their stomach would stay their last meal, and now absolutely _everything_ tasted so good even though Gentarou couldn't even bring himself to take notice of whatever he was eating.

They had to be quite the sight, but if Musashidou was surprised or amused by it he didn't let it show. He only sat a little further down, his elbows on the table and hands folded under his chin, and he seemed to be observing them with rapt attention. He probably was curious, Gentarou thought once he had filled his stomach enough to take notice. After all, it didn't happen every day to find three boys, age nine to fourteen, adrift on a life boat in the middle of the sea. It occurred to Gentarou that they should thank him and the others, no matter how unusual the situation was; they probably had saved them from starvation, after all. He was about to swallow his mouthful of bread and speak, but Nagisa, who had likely had the same thought, spoke first.

"I'd like to thank you, Mr. Musashidou. For taking us aboard and, well... everything else," Nagisa said with a noticeable attempt at smiling. Gentarou noticed that he seemed a bit unnerved by the fact the man had been staring at them all the time. "We may have died if you hadn't found us."

Musashidou gave a low, throaty laugh. "Oh, you're quite welcome, boys," he said before leaning forward on the table. His teeth bared into what Gentarou supposed was meant to be a friendly smile but that only came across as shark-like. And then he spoke again, and food turned into ash in Gentarou's mouth, his eyes widening and his heart jumping in his throat.

"Anything for our winners."

For several, long moments no one mover or spoke. Gentarou – all three of them – could only stare at Musashidou in silence, their minds fumbling to catch up with the meaning of what they had just heard. And then the full implications of what Musashidou had just said sank in, and Gentarou wanted to scream. He opened his mouth, but he could force out no sound, nor could the others. Teruaki was staring at him blankly, as though not comprehending, while Nagisa was horribly pale, his mouth open but no words leaving him. It was Musashidou to break the silence again.

"Aren't you going to finish your meal? You certainly need it. You've been fighting for your life, after all," he said, his word perfectly calm and not devoid of a twisted note of fatherly concern.

And suddenly Gentarou realized he had heard that same voice already, distorted by the a transmitter, but he had heard it – it was the same voice he had heard back when he had awakened in the third-class cabin, the same voice that had welcomed him and the other players at the staircase. So he was... and the other people on the yacht were...

_We welcome all of you to Gordain's Game – and we wish each of you luck._

"YOU!"

Gentarou's cry caused both Nagisa and Teruaki to recoil. Neither of them moved when he jumped on his feet and strode right to Musashidou, his hands clenched into tight fists. "You! It was you! You, and the others, and...! YOU!" Gentarou screamed, his hand shooting down to grab the only weapon at hand – a fork, because the bastard had brought no knives – but before he could even reach it Musashidou's own hand shot out to wrap around his neck, the grip firm and so much stronger than Gentarou would have ever expected. And then he _squeezed_.

"Gah... _gahkkk_..." Gentarou choked, trying and failing to break free from the vice-like grip, but any attempt at prying Musashidou's hand from his throat was for naught and he would only tighten the grip, cutting off his air. The room began to swim and darken in front of his eyes, and the sounds of a chair falling and Nagisa crying out - "No! Let him go! LET HIM GO!" – sounded so distant, as though he was listening to it from underwater.

Musashidou's own voice, however, sounded a lot clearer and closer. "The don't do anything foolish, boy, and _sit back_. I have no intention to hurt any of you, but you're trapped on a yacht in the middle of the ocean among people with very little morals to speak of. One word from me – or even anything happening _to_ me – would be a death warrant for all of you. It's not a word I want to give. So be a good boy, and I'll let your friend go. Then we're talk like civilized people. Are we good?"

There was a moment of stunned silence. Musashidou's grip tightened, and Gentarou gave another choking noise, his legs starting to give in. His nails dug uselessly in the man's sleeve.

"Fine, fine!" he heard Nagisa exclaiming. "We'll listen! Just let him go! Please!"

"Good," Musashidou said approvingly, and released Gentarou's neck. Gentarou stumbled backwards, hands grasping his throat and sucking in a convulsive breath. He sank on his knees on the floor, and Nagisa was next to him in a moment.

"Are you alright?" he asked worriedly. Gentarou managed to nod and swallowed, feeling as though there were spikes digging on the inside of his throat, but at least he was breathing and that was _good_. When he trusted himself to speak, he looked up at Musashidou.

"Why?" he managed to rasp. "Why this? Why _us_?"

Musashidou smiled. "Of course, you must have a lot of questions. And I'm willing to answer, boys, unlike the other guys you saw up there. They wouldn't tell you much, you see – they don't expect you to be able to stick to the... conditions. But I think higher of you. You're smart boys. I think you will."

"Conditions?" Nagisa repeated.

A nod. "Yes. But we'll get to that later. For now, you only need to believe one thing – that I'm on your side. I truly _am_ the only ally you have on this yacht, boys. So I'll answer to your questions, as you wish... but I expect you to listen closely to what I tell you afterward. Listen to what I'll tell you like your life depends on it, for it _does_. Is that clear enough?"

Gentarou scoffed. "We don't have much of a choice, do we?" he asked bitterly, finally standing up again. He noticed Teruaki was up as well now, almost hiding behind him and Nagisa, eyes wide and frightened. How quickly Musashidou had turned from their savior to their enemy, Gentarou thought bitterly.

"Well, you do have one – and that choice is death. But I'm rather sure you didn't live until now only to die because you can't spare a few minutes to listen. You don't mind if I smoke as we talk, do you? No? Wonderful," Musashidou said affably before lighting himself a cigar. He took a long drag, then nodded. "Very well. Your first question, I suppose, is about the game."

Gentarou grit his teeth. "Of course," he said dryly, anger keeping him from feeling any of the fear he was probably supposed to feel.

Not at all put off by his tone, Musashidou tilted back his head to release a cloud of smoke before speaking. "Gordain's Game takes its name by its creator – Lord Dashiell Gordain. This yacht bears his name as well. He was a wealthy Englishman, and he was on the Titanic on its maiden voyage. Its only voyage, as you very well know. He survived the disaster, but something in his mind had changed that night. He became obsessed with everything regarding the Titanic, to the point of purchasing anything that had a connection with the ship. And this included the Gigantic – Titanic's twin ship, identical in every way. As you likely have already imagined," he added, "the Gigantic is the ship you've been into until hours ago."

Gentarou found himself staring incredulously at him as he paused to take another drag of the cigar. Had they truly just been on a replica of the Titanic? Despite what he had seen in there, it seemed incredible.

"At any rate," Musashidou was going on, "it wasn't only with the Titanic that Gordain found himself fascinated with. That night he could witness what people are capable to do in the face of death, he could see people fighting for survival while knowing perfectly that not all of them could be saved and that many – strangers and loved ones alike – had to be left behind. And when he had the Gigantic, when he had a chance... he recreated a similar situation. With fellow millionaires, he kidnapped people who had collected huge debts to them and forced them to go through the game he created. Gordain's Game, they would fight for their lives to Gordain's amusement, while bets were placed on each player. It's the same game you've been through, though of course there were some technological advancements through the years. There were no key cards when I went through it, just to say one."

Gentarou blinked. "When you went through it?" he repeated, taken aback. _"__You?"_

Musashidou laughed. "Yes, me," he said. "Me, and everyone else on this ship. Except the men of the crew, I mean. We all went through a game and we all _won_ before being accepted into Gordain's, how should I call it?, _club_. The losers would die, be in by the other players' hand or in the incinerator, and the winners would be offered to join. Many games were hosted... speaking of which, I suppose you have already guessed that we told a lie, didn't you? We were never going to sink the ship. But oh boy, doesn't everyone always believe it!"

Gentarou glared daggers at him and said nothing. Musashidou just shrugged. "Anyway. When Gordain died he chose us, the winners of each game held while he lived, as his successors. We inherited the Gigantic, where we keep hosting games. In case you were wondering," he added, glancing at Gentarou, "you, number [5], were my bet at first. But I ended up being so impressed by all of you, so I bet on you as a group. No one but me really thought you'd all make it out – but here you are! I bet now you understand why all the others looked like their cat had just died, don't you?" he added with a chortle.

Nagisa clenched his jaw. "I don't believe you!" he snapped. "If you really went through that madness yourself, you wouldn't force others to... to... you wouldn't! You- what are you doing?" he asked, taken aback, when Musashidou put the cigar in the ashtray and began taking off his jacket.

"I simply want to show you something. Proof, if you will," the man simply said. Gentarou watched in morbid fascination as Musashidou rolled up his left arm's sleeve to show a large scar with jagged edges on the forearm; it was a though a chunk of flesh had been torn off.

"Is that...?" Nagisa began, keeping an and around Teruaki's shoulders. His voice wasn't as firm as it had been just moments before.

"My little souvenir from the game, yes. Not a pretty sight, is it?" Musashidou said with a chuckle – but this one was different from the others, this one held some bitterness in it. "I had to kill to get out, as you did. In the incinerator. But I had no gun; only a knife. And the other man... he didn't go down easily. He fought back, tooth and claw. Pun intended," he added with an odd smile. "He literally bit off a piece of me before going down, as you can see. I tell you, it was not pleasant. It was a lesson I'll never forget – _never_ get in debt with Lord Gordain if you cannot pay back. The old bastard. He died only a month after that game."

"But why us?" Gentarou asked, anger once again plain in his voice. "Why us? I have no debt to you! None of us does – we're too young to have any debt! So _why us_?"

Musashidou didn't reply right away: for a few moments he only stared at the smoke coiling up from his cigar as though he could see something in it that they couldn't.

"You see," he finally spoke, "when the players are all adults... things can get boring after a while. They tend to have about the same chances to make it out as the other, and then where is the thrill of the risk? The fun of betting on the underdog and see if they can succeed despite everything? So it was decided that this time, for the first time, it wouldn't be _only_ our debtors we'd collect. Oh no. For some of them, we would pick from their families. And so we did. Several of the players were in debt with us one way or another, even though they of course didn't draw a connection between that and their kidnapping, but three of you – number [3], number [4] and number [5] – were not. You are _related_ to someone who had a debt to us."

Gentarou frowned. The whole explanation was simply insane, and yet his attention focused on one detail – namely, that the explanation only covered himself, Nagisa and Mars. But still...

"What about Teruaki?" Nagisa asked, voicing his thoughts. The child was still huddled against his side, staring at Musashidou as though in trance, but he recoiled when he heard his name. "He can't have been in debt with you! He's just a child!"

Teruaki drew in a trembling breath. "I-it... w-wasn't M-miss Murakami... r-right?" he asked, his voice little more than a pleading mewling.

Musashidou shook his head. "No, no, it was not," he said reassuringly. "She had no debt to us. Nor did anyone you know. Your presence here was... an exception. One I cannot say I truly agreed with, but sometimes you have to just go with the majority. You see, once it was decided that this time we'd take in kids for the Game, someone suggested adding a child with an especially high IQ. To see how well you'd fare, you see; a little experiment, if you will. You were picked absolutely randomly, as far as I know: chosen from a list of children signed up with a program for gifted youth. But given your young age, it was agreed that you'd need at least some advantage on the other players: someone who would be on your side. And that's why your teacher, number [8], was picked. We knew she'd try to keep you safe, at least up to a certain point. But as it turns out, she was apparently ready to protect you until the very end hadn't she died. She _adored_ you, boy – don't you ever think otherwise."

Gentarou found himself thinking back of what Pluto had said back in the incinerator, how he had taunted Teruaki by telling him that Miss Murakami had been brought in the game because of him, and he wasn't too surprised when he saw the boy burrowing his face in his hands and letting out a cry of denial. Nagisa put an arm back around his shoulders and let him lean on him, shooting a furious glare at Musashidou.

"You're all fucking sick," he snarled.

The man nodded. "That could very well be. No one goes through Gordain's Game and lives to tell it without something... changing. I'm not quite right in the head, boys, nor are the others – but neither are _you_ now. You simply have yet to realize it," he added, and this time there was absolutely no trace of humor in his statement: he was completely convinced of what he had just said.

Gentarou tried to shake off the sudden dread that last sentence had made him feel and thought back of what Musashidou had told them about them being related to someone with a debt to those... those madmen. "But who? Who was in debt with you?"

There was a moment of silence, then Musashidou sighed and reached to take back his cigar. He took a long draw. "I'm afraid this is where the talk gets less pleasant," he said, as though the talk that far had indeed been just some pleasant chatting. "We took all three of them beforehand, and told them all what awaited them. Then we asked them if they'd let someone else trade places with them, without telling them _who_. Had they refused the deal, we would have left their relatives – you – alone, and had _them_ playing. But they accepted, and we..." he paused and gave a cold, cold smile. "We have no sympathy for those who let other people pay for their own debts. You see, those relatives of yours were in the ship with you. You all saw one, in the freezer. That was number [4]'s older brother. He had a gambling problem, the poor boy, but at least he never knew that the person who'd take his place in the game was his little sister. And number [5]-"

"_Gentarou_," Gentarou growled. "You may as well use my damn _name_."

Musashidou smiled. "Of course, my bad. Our Gentarou here saw another one, back in the laboratory. But of course..." he paused and sighed. "You didn't recognize him, I assume. Not with your little problem."

"What...?" Gentarou breathed, suddenly feeling as though he had swallowed ice. With the mind's eye he saw the body on the operation table back in the laboratory, the man who had died in his sleep poisoned by gas, the man Pluto cut up to retrieve the key to get out of there... the man whose face was anonymous to him as everyone else's.

And yet Musashidou said it was someone he knew, someone he was _related_ to.

_Who was it? Who? WHO?_

"Little problem?" he heard Nagisa repeating in confusion, his voice reaching his ears as though coming from miles and miles away.

"Face blindness," Musashidou replied. "The boy here cannot differentiate between human faces. With no clothes, voice, distinctive hairstyle or peculiar postures to rely onto he wouldn't be able to tell people apart. My, aren't you pale. Do you need to sit down?" he added when he noticed how Gentarou was shaking.

"Who?" he breathed. "Who was it?"

_Oh God, tell me it wasn't my father. It couldn't be him. Let it not be him!_

"Mr. Ichiro Tominaga. The name is familiar, is it?"

And indeed, it was: that was the name of Gentarou's maternal uncle, his mother's younger brother. He had laid right before him, he had died right before him, and not only he hadn't known that – he had let Pluto _cut his corpse open_. Gentarou himself had barely even known the man, but the mere thought of what his mother would say, of what she would _think_ of that chilled him to the bone. Gentarou staggered backwards, all color draining from his face. "My uncle," he breathed. And yet, mixed with the horror, there was relief: relief that it hadn't been his _father_, for he wasn't sure what he would have done had it turned out to be him.

"The third," he heard Nagisa muttering, and he turned to see he was pale as a ghost as well. Shaken as he was, it took him a moment to realize he had a relative on that ship, too... one that was likely dead as well.

"Well, you were spared his sight. He was behind Door [1], tied to the steering wheel."

Nagisa didn't even seem, to have heard. "Who? _Who was it_?"

"Your father, boy. His business had collected quite the huge debt, and-"

"_NO!"_

Nagisa's cry of despair and denial caused Teruaki to wince, and Gentarou moved just on time to grab him before he could launch himself at Musashidou, heedless of the consequences. He tried to hold him back as he could, but Nagisa kept struggling to break free, apparently not even feeling any pain in him arm anymore – fury overrode everything else. "You bastards! I'll make you pay! Let me go! Let me _go_!" he cried out, but Gentarou only tightened his grip on him.

"I won't let you give them a reason to _kill_ you!" he growled. "Don't be an idiot!"

"They killed my _father_!"

Musashidou began laughing as though he had just heard something hilarious. That startled both Gentarou and Nagisa enough to make them still, staring at him without comprehending. By then they already knew he was a sick fuck, but that laugh... why was he laughing like that?

When the laugh died down to a chuckle, Musashidou finally spoke again. "I think there was a misunderstanding, boy. You're thinking of Mr. Yoshida, aren't you? Of your stepfather? It wasn't him, I assure you. Why, I wouldn't have announced the death of the man who raised you like that. Who do you take me for?" he asked, having actually the galls of sounding wounded.

Still, Nagisa didn't seem to even notice his tone: he kept still and stared back at Musashidou with wide eyes. "It... wasn't him?" he repeated, his voice small and incredulous. Only then Gentarou let him go.

"No, my boy. Why, how do you think that man could get himself in serious enough debt to be chosen for the game? He's a scholar, and a rather boring individual if you ask to me; he's not the kind of person to get in deep debt. No, I'm talking about someone else. Your biological father, actually. Your mother told you about him, I suppose?"

Nagisa shook his head. "Barely. I only know that they had an affair, and he fired when she..." he paused, and his gaze darkened. "I never even met him. I don't share his surname. He was not my father," he said, his voice now firmer. "_Yoshida_ is."

Musashidou nodded approvingly. "Of course he is. Blood doesn't matter that much in the end, does it? And in case you had lingering doubts, I can give you my word that Mr. Yoshida is perfectly fine. Well, aside from the fact he's very likely beside himself with worry. All of your families must be by this point, of course. Seeing you again is going to be such a relief, I'm sure."

"Seeing us again?" Gentarou found himself repeating. "Does that mean that... you'll let us go?" he asked. He barely dared to hope that was true.

"But of course!" Musashidou explained, sounding surprised by being even asked. "You won Gordain's Game, boys, and you're free to go. The yacht is bringing us all back to the mainland as we speak. Though of course," he added, his voice dropping lower and eyes narrowing, "there are a couple of things you should agree to before you go."

That wasn't even much of a surprise: Gentarou had seen _that_ coming form a mile away. "You want us not to tell the anyone what happened, don't you?" he asked.

A chuckle. "What a bright boy you are. Yes, that's pretty much it. You see, under normal circumstances the winners are invited to join our little club. That's how most of us got in, after all, me included. But you all are still so _young_, so it's not an option. Not _yet_."

"Yet?"

"Oh, you needn't worry about it. You'll be offered membership _someday_; not directly, perhaps, but something will happen that will let you know we're still watching. You won me quite the amount of money, so from this moment on I see you as my responsibility as well... and someday I'll give you the means to track me down, if so you'll wish."

"And if we don't?" Nagisa asked, his voice harsh.

A shrug. "While refusal would normally be dealt with _severely_, you are an exception in many ways. This is one of those, especially since you are _not_ being offered membership in this moment. If you won't take the chance when you'll see it, we'll simply leave you be. The only requirement that will always stand, of course, will be of never breathing a word of what happened today. So, will you keep quiet, or will you not?"

Gentarou chuckled bitterly. What choice did they truly have? Those men were rich and powerful enough to set up that whole madness, and were not above kidnapping and killing people for their own amusement – what the hell could they do if angered? Gentarou opened his mouth to speak, but someone else spoke first.

Teruaki. "NO!" he cried out, running up to Gentarou and grasping his vest. He looked up at him pleadingly. "We have to t-t-tell the police! You t-told me we would! You said they'd p-pay for what h-h-happened to her! You s-said... you promised! YOU PROMISED!"

Gentarou clenched his jaw. "But we _can't_. Don't be an idiot and-"

"No! You promised! N-Nagisa, you... y-you...!" the child tried, but his voice faded when Nagisa sighed and shook his head.

"I'm sorry, but Gentarou is right. They know where we live, and our families, and they can make all proof on the ship disappear. And even if anyone _believed_ us, we... we killed two men. I don't think-"

"LIARS!" Teruaki shrieked, letting go of Gentarou's vest and taking a step back. "You s-said... y-you...!"

"Try to tell anyone, child, and your teacher will have died for nothing."

Musashidou's voice, suddenly cold and somewhat alien, caused the child to trail off. He turned to look at the man with wide, frightened eyes. "W-wha...?"

"She wanted you to _live_, boy," Musashidou pressed on, his eyes narrowed. "Trying to tell anyone what happened will have only one noteworthy result – your death. No one will pay, and she will have died for nothing. Is that what you want, kid? Does her sacrifice count so little for you?"

Teruaki stepped back, and he began shaking like a newborn deer. "N-no, I... I-I..."

"Consider _this_," Musashidou cut him off, pressing the finished cigar into the ashtray. "Let's say that you told the police about what happened. Let's pretend, for the sake of argument, that we were foolish enough – and believe me, we're _not_ – to leave behind any proof of what took place on that ship. Let's ignore the fact you actually _killed_ two men, and let's say the police would go as far as ignoring it, too. Let's pretend all of this is even possible and focus on what we can do to you. We had enough influence and resources to find out that one of our debtors," he said, glancing at Nagisa, "had a son. An illegitimate son he never told anyone about, with a different surname and living in another town without ever having _met_ the man. Not only we could gather than information, but we could also find out who that son was – a boy with no apparent connection to him at all. Why am I telling you this? To let you know that if any of you even tried to accuse us, to breathe a word of what happened, we'll know it... and we'll be able to find you, no matter where you hide, to make you face the consequences. You, and your families. We have connections with rather... _unsavory_ people. Think about it, boys, and tell me – is this a risk worth taking? Is it, number [6]? _Is it?_"

And that was it, that was the last Teruaki could take: the moment Musashidou finished was the moment he let out a choked sob and fell on his knees, his whole frame shaking and eyes tightly shut. Nagisa took a step forward to him, but Musashidou gestured for him not to. "No, leave him alone for now. There will be plenty of time for me to talk to him and convince him, after all," he added with yet another shark-like smile. "As of course we'll take some time to talk to you, too. It's obvious that you cannot simply return to civilization without at least an explanation for the time you were missing, after all. Don't worry about it, though – each of you will be given a story to tell before being released. Obviously, you'll be released in different places; we cannot have people drawing connections between your disappearances, can we?" he added, gesturing for someone to come forward, and only then Gentarou turned to realize that several crewmen had entered the room and stood in silence behind them.

"Wait! What is this about?" Nagisa demanded to know, instinctively stepping closer to Gentarou.

"Nothing you should worry about," Musashidou said calmly. "You have been assigned a cabin each, where you'll stay for the rest of the journey. No more than a couple of days, I promise, and you'll have as much food and drinks as you wish. We'll soon release each of you after giving you a story to tell. These gentlemen are here to escort each of you to your cabin. I suppose it's time to tell each other goodbye, boys – not a farewell, I hope. But that will depend on you," he added, and gestured for the men to approach.

Before Gentarou had the time to even try saying anything, two men stood in front of him. One of them put a hand on his shoulder, in a not-too-gentle invitation at following. He instinctively turned to his right, where he saw Nagisa was being brought away as well by two other men. They gazes locked, and Nagisa made a brave attempt at a smile. It felt unreal, Gentarou thought, to part just like that after all that they had been through.

"Guess I'll see you around," Nagisa said, his voice shaking a bit. He tried to turn to Teruaki, but the child was still on the ground, shivering and completely unresponsive, so he looked back at Gentarou, who nodded.

"Good luck," he heard himself saying, an odd weight on his chest when he realized that all he knew of Nagisa was his name; no surname or nothing else. And should they meet again on the street, he realized, he wouldn't even be able to _recognize_ him. Gentarou opened his mouth, but it was too late: one last look and Nagisa was gone, through a door on the opposite site of the room and likely to his own cabin.

Gentarou sighed and just let the crewmen bring him away as well. He turned back right on the doorway, and the last thing he saw before being dragged through it was Musashidou walking up to Teruaki and picking him up, getting no reaction at all from him: he stayed still in the man's arms like a broken doll, eyes empty.

He did not turn to look back in Gentarou's direction when the door finally closed, hiding both him and Musashidou from sight.


	13. The Nonary Project

_A/N: well, this is the end of the fic. Even this epilogue ended up being longer than I planned. Oh well, I hope it won't disappoint. I know I skipped a lot of years towards the end, but if I were to write all about Hongou's descent into obsession for morphogenetic fields, the creation of Cradle and their first experiments this chapter would have been endelss. More like another fic. So yeah, I'll leave it at that._

_Thank you so much to everyone who read/reviewed/faved/followed this fic. I hope you enjoyed the read even half as much as I enjoyed writing this._

* * *

**April 14, 1997**

Looking back later – much, much later – Gentarou Hongou would be somewhat amused to realize that the day their paths crossed again was anniversary of the day the Titanic had hit an iceberg. And even later he would have found it rather appropriate considering how, from that day on, they were all unknowingly set for disaster.

That day, however, he was not thinking of the Titanic at all. As he walked through the campus on that especially warm day, avoiding the groups of other college students – why did all first year students love to just walk around in groups and do nothing? He had been far more productive than that when he had started college the previous year! – all he could think of was how much it annoyed him when a lecture was canceled with no notice. Especially when it was one he was so deeply interested into: one about Sheldrake's theory of morphic resonance.

"Don't worry too much about it. I mean, we get a free afternoon, right? Besides, what more could the lecture say that you didn't read on books already? I swear you could give lectures to Sheldrake himself by now!" one of the students of his same course had told him with a laugh before running off to waste his afternoon somewhere. Sometimes Gentarou had to wonder what exactly had possessed people people like that – mediocre, unmotivated, bland, anonymous _monkeys_ – into deciding to major in Cognitive Neuroscience.

Still, Gentarou knew all too well that his own interest in the subject was not a merely academic one. He had not forgotten what had happened six years before, in the Gigantic's incinerator; he had not forgotten how he had heard voices of unknown people who were not there. He could _never_ forget. And he wanted, needed to know how it had been possible. Could the fields Sheldrake spoke of have anything to do with it? Could information be passed from person to person through them? Was that how he had heard the voices? And if he could tap into those fields to hear that, what other kind of information could he possibly get? And why had he never again – never again, no matter how hard he tried – been able to do that, to hear anything he wasn't supposed to hear or know anything he wasn't supposed to know?

He had asked himself that same question countless times, and was still no closer to an answer. But he had not hallucinated, of that he was sure. He had heard those voices, he thought as he kept walking through the campus. They were _real_, as real as everything else that had happened that accursed day, but it was the thing that left him with most lingering questions and-

"Hey!"

A voice, along with a touch on his shoulder, snapped Gentarou from his thoughts. He stopped walking and turned to see the person who had called out for him – a young man with black hair that barely reached his shoulders. His face was, of course, identical to everyone else's; but the way his black eyes stared intently at him... that was somewhat unnerving.

Gentarou opened his mouth to ask him what the matter may be, but words died in his throat when the other spoke again, a mixture of wonder and incredulity in his voice. "Gentarou? Is it... you?"

And suddenly, it _clicked_. The voice had changed, as its owner had – taller and broader, more like a man than a boy – but something in it was suddenly familiar, as was that hair with that lock falling right between black eyes and the way he had tilted his head to his right when he had spoken. Gentarou found himself staring back for a few moments before he managed to speak.

"Nagisa...?" he said, and the anonymous face in front of him opened in a smile; that was still the same, too.

"Holy shit. Holy _shit_. I can't believe this!" Nagisa exclaimed with a laugh, then turned to their left. "You were right, it's him! It's really _him_!" he called out, causing Gentarou to turn as well to see who he was talking to.

Teruaki.

It was him, it _had_ to be him: he had grown as well and was taller, yes, but still skinny, still with glasses and impossible hair. Had Gentarou had any doubt at all, it would have ceased to exist the moment he spoke. "S-so it's r-r-really... Gentarou?" he asked, his voice unmistakably that of someone not yet out of puberty, and it was then that Gentarou finally found his own voice again.

"What in the _world_ are you doing here?"

"Recruiting zombies for our army of the undead," Nagisa replied without missing a beat, only to start laughing at Gentarou's baffled expression. "Seriously now, is _this_ how you greet us? Gee, thanks. And to think we may ask the same to you. If we weren't smart enough to guess you're in college to _study_, that's it."

Gentarou snorted. God, he and his comebacks – that had not change _at all_, had it? "You know full well what I meant. You're not just in college – you're in _my_ college, both of you, and... wait a moment. What are _you_ even doing in college now? You're what, fourteen?" Gentarou asked, turning back to Teruaki with a frown.

The boy seemed to cringe a bit at the sudden shift of attention, and had to clear his throat before speaking. "I'm f-fifteen, actually. I-I've finished school early."

"And he picked one hell of a major, too," Nagisa commented. "Biomedical Engineering. Makes Human Factors Psychology sound like stuff for dummies, but oh well. I'm no genius and I like fiddling with people better than messing in labs anyway."

While in a not too far future Gentarou would have found their majors – and the sets of skills they'd respectively develop – _extremely_ interesting and useful to him, at the moment it was far from his main concern. "I see. As I was saying, we are all in the same college. Are you going to tell me it's a mere coincidence? I've stopped believing in coincidences a long time ago."

That caused Nagisa's smile to fade, his expression sobering. "Of course it isn't. I'm not stupid. I may have believed so when I first met Teruaki here last week, and even it was a stretch, but now? Now I know it can't be. The three of us in the same college – what are the odds? But I think," he added, glancing around, "that we should find a better place to talk. One where no one can hear anything. Just to be safe. I haven't kept my mouth shut for six damn years to get in trouble now."

Gentarou could only agree, and Teruaki simply nodded in silence. Minutes later they were settling on a shaded corner of the one of the biggest lawns in the campus, a good distance away from where most students were sitting under the sun. They sat rather close, so that they could keep their voices low for safety, and for a moment – just a moment – the memory of the night they had spent huddled together in the life boat made it back in Gentarou's mind. He quickly chased it away and turned his attention back to the subject at hand.

"So," Gentarou asked when he was certain no one was close enough to hear them, "any idea how this may have happened?"

Nagisa and Teruaki exchanged a quick glance before nodding. "I think we might," Nagisa said. "There is _something_ in common Teruaki and I have. Regarding how we got here, I mean. Say, did you happen to get a full-paid scholarship for this college?"

That caused Gentarou to recoil, his stomach suddenly clenching, because yes, he _had_ gotten one two years earlier, right by the end of high school. It hadn't been much of a surprise, for he _was_ a straight-A student and he had known from the moment he had applied for one through his old school that he would likely get it, so he hadn't for a moment suspected that there could be more to it than it met the eye.

"Yes," he finally said slowly. "I take it I wasn't the only one."

"Exactly. I got one, too, as did smarty-pants here," Nagisa added, giving Teruaki a light pat on the shoulder. The boy gave a somewhat nervous chuckle, but didn't meet his gaze, nor Gentarou's. He seemed nervous, but this time Gentarou couldn't blame him: unless they were dealing with a rather incredible coincidence – all three of them getting a full paid scholarship for the very same college – little guessing work was needed to know _who_ had to be behind that.

And that was certainly not a reassuring thought: a reminder that they were being _watched_, that those men knew exactly where they were now and what they were doing and could influence their lives even now. Gentarou bit his lower lip at the thought, some of the long-repressed anger boiling in his chest once again. "Those bastards," he seethed. "What do they _want_? What's the meaning of this?"

Nagisa shook his head, his lips pulled in a grim line. "I wish I knew," he said, bitterness showing in his voice. "Hell knows how none of us needed this nice trip down Memory Lane. Glad to see you're doing fine, but _still_."

Teruaki drew in a shaky breath. "So w-what do we d-do now?" he asked in a weak voice, and suddenly he sounded so much like the child Gentarou had known six years before on the Gigantic. The fear and need for reassurance were still there.

And just like six years earlier, Gentarou found himself raking his brain to give him an answer. "Did either of you do or say anything that may have angered them? Did either of you _speak_?" he asked, glancing at Teruaki especially: he had been the one completely opposed to accepting Musashidou's deal, after all. But he doubted he had defied it. He likely wouldn't have been _there_ if he had.

And, in fact, Teruaki immediately shook his head. "N-no, I... no! I-" he trailed off with a startled gasp when Nagisa lightly elbowed him in the ribs.

"Quiet," he hissed, glancing sideways to a group of students sitting on the grass not too far from them. A couple of them were glancing at Teruaki with some curiosity. "Don't draw attention. Especially when we're talking about _this_."

That was enough to make Teruaki shut his mouth for a few moments. He drew in another long breath and then spoke again, his voice lower and slightly calmer. "I s-said nothing. N-not ever," he said, and from the way his anonymous face twisted in something akin to anguish Gentarou is inclined to believe him. It was a difficult secret to bear – he and Nagisa know it well – but then again Gentarou doubted that if any of them had tried to speak of what happened to anyone they would still be _there_.

"Neither did I," Nagisa said quietly. "Nor did you, I assume."

Gentarou snorted. "Obviously," he said. "Besides, killing us as they threatened to do would make more sense as a punishment for speaking. Why would they give us scholarships for the same college in that case?"

Hell, he thought, why should they give them scholarships _at all_? Just to let them know they were still watching, as Musashidou had said they would? Or maybe they meant it as something else, or... wait. What if it wasn't them, but rather _him_?

_You won me quite the amount of money, so from this moment on I see you as my responsibility as well... and someday I'll give you the means to track me down, if so you'll wish._

"Musashidou," Gentarou muttered with more venom than he could ever recall putting into a name. Teruaki seemed to shrink at the mere mention of his name, while Nagisa blinked.

"What about him?"

"This may be his doing. Remember how he kept going on saying that he felt that we were his responsibility? How he'd give us a way to know he was watching, and to find him if we wanted to? I think this may be it. He said that something would happen and that we'd _know._ We _could_ track him down if so we chose; we only need to take a closer look at the scholarship's documents, perhaps make a few calls. _This_ is the door he's leaving open for us."

There were a few moments of stunned silence, and Teruaki seemed to instinctively shift closer to Nagisa. As for Nagisa himself, he finally snorted.

"Then he wasted his time and money. He can keep that door open as much as he wants, but I sure am _not_ going to walk through it. I'll have nothing to do with him or those other sick fucks again. He said they'd leave us be if we never showed up, didn't he?"

Gentarou nodded. "Yes, he did. And I have no intention to take up on his offer, either. I was simply trying to imagine what his reasoning may have been. But as far as I'm concerned, everything ends here. He gave us a chance, we choose not to take it. That's it. We live our lives, they keeping going on with theirs. That's all that there is to it," he said. While he knew that their lives also included putting more people through the same game they had been through, he thought nothing of it: why should he? He would never even know any of those–  
_monkeys_  
–people anyway. That insane game was no longer his problem.

"S-so we just... do nothing?" Teruaki said, a hopeful note in his voice. It wasn't hard to imagine how much he preferred that solution to having to face once again even one of those men, having to look back into the nightmare he had so clearly wanted to leave behind. Without much success – none of them could truly leave what they had been through behind, that much was clear – but at least the memory could grow distant, fade like an old photograph, be pushed back in the depths of their mind.

Gentarou nodded. "Exactly. We do nothing. We move on and think no more of it," he said, his voice not devoid of a certain authority. And that was something Nagisa had to find especially funny, for he began laughing.

"I'm sorry," he snickered at Gentarou's quizzical glance, "but seriously, listen to yourself! We meet again after _six _years, and in not even half a hour you're acting all the world like the big boss. _Again_."

A small smirk curled Gentarou's lips. "I suppose this means I'm a natural leader."

"Watch that ego, boss."

"Oh, shut it."

"Make me."

"Don't try me!"

The banter faded into a laugh, one that had nothing forced to it; even Teruaki's chuckle felt far more heartfelt than the previous one, like he truly _meant_ it. It felt good, really, in a way Gentarou hadn't felt in a long time. He wasn't one to share much with–  
_monkeys  
_–other people, for they all were just the same to him, but those two were people he had lived through hell with, people who had perhaps known him better than he had allowed anyone to know him until then. Not so much Teruaki, perhaps – he had been weak and useless and had only made himself useful in the very end – but they all were bound by the fact they had survived through hell together. And Nagisa had truly been his ally; Gentarou had sometimes missed the sensation that came with the company of someone he knew he could trust.

As far as he could allow himself to truly trust, at least.

"You know, the circumstances are fucked up and all, but I'm glad I met the two of you again," Nagisa finally spoke, catching Gentarou by surprise. He found himself smiling a bit.

"I suppose that staying well away from Gordain's successors or whatever won't necessarily keep us from staying in contact," he conceded. They were in the same college, after all... and they were the only two people in the world he could speak to of the nightmare they had been through without risking his life.

Teruaki blinked up at him, surprised. "R-really?" he asked, his voice almost pitifully hopeful. While still more functioning than he had been last time he had seen him, Teruaki seemed as much of a nervous mess as he had been back in the ship... and perhaps even more. Gentarou doubted he had it easy having to hide what had happened from everyone all those years, and he doubted even more he was the kind of person with whom other–  
_monkeys  
_–people would willingly spend time. And with Murakami gone, he had likely been even more lonesome and isolated than he had been as a child. Gentarou almost pitied him. Almost.

"Of course," Nagisa replied with a shrug. "I've wondered a lot what happened to the two of you. Sometimes I wondered if... well. If only one slip was enough to get killed... you know."

Yes, Gentarou knew exactly what he had thought may have happened to them, and so did Teruaki if the way he had winced was of any indication. "But we didn't, and now we're all here," he pointed out.

Nagisa nodded. "Yeah. We're all here," he said, a small measure of wonder showing in his voice. He seemed genuinely glad to see them, to see _him_. For some reason, that felt good. "Look, how about going to get something to eat? It's almost lunch time, I'm starving and I want to know what you guys have been up to."

That turned out to be the first of many meals they shared, and with time they began sharing whole afternoons and days – and their own ideas of what had happened that day in the incinerator, when Gentarou had heard something he shouldn't have but that had likely saved their lives. Before long, they all focused on what seemed the most likely explanation to the phenomenon: morphogenetic fields.

And with time, to Gentarou it became more than just the most likely explanation of what he had experienced – it became an obsession. "Just think of what could be done with the fields, what _we_ could do if we could know more of how they work!" he would say often. "Imagine if we could tap into them: we'd have the collective human consciousness at our disposal! There would be nothing we couldn't do, nothing we couldn't know, nothing we couldn't _fix_!"

Teruaki always listened to his words with rapt attention, fearful and fascinated at the same time, and yet with a kind of odd resolution whose reason Gentarou couldn't figure out at the time. Only years later it would occur to him that Teruaki had simply wanted _something_ to come out from their nightmare so that what they had been through, and Murakami's death, would not stay completely senseless. He had wanted to give the most senseless violence a reason, a purpose so that he would be able to think that, at least, his teacher had not died for nothing. It wasn't hard to tell that, deep down, Teruaki would never think of her death as an acceptable price for just his life.

Nagisa, on the other hand, figured out Gentarou's main goal soon enough.

"You're thinking of prosopagnosia, aren't you? You think you'll be able to find a cure for yourself if you can see through the field how the recognition of people's faces is processed," he said quietly one day, and only then Gentarou remembered that Musashidou had told him and Teruaki of his face-blindness back on the yacht. For a moment he had been tempted to deny, but then he had nodded. There was no point in lying to Nagisa, after all: he was his ally, and a part of him knew he would always be.

"Yes," he said. And, as he had known, that had been enough of an explanation. Nagisa asked of it no more, and kept working on his research with him.

"So that someday you'll get to see my face when I get fed up with you and tell you to fuck off," was all he said the only time Gentarou asked him why was he almost as invested in the research as he was. Gentarou asked no further.

Once college was over, it seemed almost natural for the three of them to keep working together; creating a pharmaceutical company was little more than a transition to allow themselves to keep working on their research. In a few years, through extensive experimentation with animals and sometimes people who volunteered for the Ganzfeld Experiment in their affiliated hospitals, they knew more of what it took to successfully tap into the fields... a _lot_ more. But, for that knowledge to be useful, it had to be tested on man, and in very... peculiar situations. And Gentarou Hongou could think of one situation in particular where it was _bound_ to work. He should know: he had been in it. If to have results they had to recreate it all, so be it.

And, in order to do that, he knew exactly who was it they had to seek out.

* * *

**December 2009**

"So, let me see if I got this straight. You're claiming you could make a better game than the one Gordain created, aren't you?"

Musashidou's words came after a long, thoughtful silence, and something in his voice made Hongou breathe a little more easily: he sounded interested, somewhat intrigued. And that was good, considering that he had feared his proposal would be rejected right away. Of course convincing Musashidou wouldn't guarantee the others would agree, but it was an important step forward, and a necessary one.

Hongou nodded. "Precisely. We lived through it, after all. As you did. So why would you leave the game the same way it has always been? Who better than us to make something _more_ out of it?"

There was a moment of silence as Musashidou's eyes shifted from him to Nijisaki, then to Kubota – who still sat rigidly and staring ahead, but was quiet and seemingly in control – and then back to Hongou. Then he chuckled. "Such confidence," he said. "I like that in people. Very well, then – define _more_. You certainly are not here after all these years solely because you felt like having fun. You must have a reason, don't you?"

"As a matter of fact," Nijisaki spoke in his most professional tone, "we do believe we can both make the game more challenging for the players – and thus more entertaining for _you_ – and give it more of a purpose."

Musashidou arched an eyebrow. "A purpose?"

"Yes. A scientific purpose," Hongou replied. "You see, when we were there, in the incinerator... something happened. Something that I could not explain to myself for a long time. But now we believe we know what the explanation is, and we'll need your help to test it. If it succeeds, not only there will be a new kind of game for you to run with more advanced technology – we'll have a groundbreaking scientific discovery in our hands, one we could be able to use for many, many purposes."

"I see," Musashidou said. He paused for a moment to take a long drag from his cigar and released a could of smoke before speaking again. "You know, depending on how truly groundbreaking this discovery of your will be, I can think of some... people our club has ties with who may be interested in helping. But I have to ask what _is_ it you're going to test."

Hongou drew in a deep breath. That was it, then – that was the moment where he'd take the biggest risk, for he knew that a laugh would perfectly plausible reaction to his answer. He wasn't foolish enough to ignore the fact their theory _did_ sound insane, no matter the proof they had gathered with animals.

"We mean to research the morphogenetic fields, and the prospect of controlling a human mind through sheer will through them," Hongou said.

For a few, endless moments Musashidou stared in silence. Then he slowly nodded. "And you claim you experienced something similar yourself? In the incinerator?"

Relieved that at the very least they had been not laughed at, Hongou released a long breath and nodded. "That's correct. One of the reasons why I am certain these fields exist is that I had first-hand experience with them, however briefly. It was when I knew that Murakami's killer, the wolf in sheep's clothing, had to be left-handed. It was as though I was being _told_ so."

Musashidou took another drag from his cigar and tilted his head on one side. "I must say," he began, "that I haven't kept close track of you in these last few years. I know a few things, though. The three of you have a pharmaceutical company of your own now, don't you?"

"Yes. Cradle Pharmaceutical."

"And I assume that you have conducted at the very least some tests to support your theory?"

It was Nijisaki to reply. "Absolutely," he said. "Ter- Kubota led the company's research and development division through some very interesting and enlightening tests. All of them indicated the same thing: that living beings – people included, as the results of the Ganzfeld Experiment show – can send and receive information through means that elude the naked eye, even when far apart. Not only that, but we have managed to pinpoint the ideal setting for that connection to happen – young age of the subject, and a situation of emergency. Like ours back in the incinerator."

With a nod, Musashidou reached up to scratch his chin. He still looked interested, and intrigued. "Of course you did. I should have known you were not the kind to even try bringing up this without at least some proof. And you believe what you have is definitive proof?" he asked, but this time he wasn't looking at Hongou or Nijisaki: he was staring at Kubota, and him alone.

Kubota cringed just a little under the sudden attention, but when he spoke his voice was remarkably firm. Well, at least by his standards. "Yes. There was no d-doubt that there were means of c-communication that were lost to us before. If we could r-recreate a situation of d-danger akin to that of the rats in the lab, I b-believe we may gain a great knowledge of the f-fields and how they work."

The corners of Musashidou's mouth curled in a smile. "So you're suggesting to use people as lab rats."

That caused Kubota to fall silent and draw in a sharp breath. Hongou knew he wasn't truly comfortable with the idea, or at least he didn't accept it as a necessity as much as he and Nijisaki did, but they had still managed to convince him. After all, they had told him, if their theory was correct everyone would make it out and no one would die. And they were sure it was correct, weren't they? Oh yes, they were. So there was nothing to worry about, was there?

And Kubota had believed them, had _chosen_ to believe them, and was willing to do as they said. As always.

_Good little monkey._

Eventually, it was Hongou to reply. "That's more or less it, yes. It isn't much different than using them as horses to bet onto in a race," he said calmly. Musashidou chortled.

"Touché, my boy. Touché. Very well, here's the thing: I am interested in what you suggest. I truly am. But to try convincing the others, I need to know more of this project of yours. A lot more."

Hongou smiled at him, elated by the fact he was willing to give it a chance, that they may have taken that necessary first step after all. He shared a quick glance with Nijisaki before nodding. "Of course," he said. "I'm certain we'll have entirely convinced you to speak to them for us by the time this meeting is over."

Musashidou leant back on his seat and laughed. "I like your attitude, boy. I truly do. That's what a winner says, and only winners make it in our club. Keep that in mind, boys: once a winner, _always_ a winner."

It wouldn't be until many years later, when the other tree had died by his own hand and he was the only one left, that Gentarou Hongou would realize just how wrong Musashidou had been on that, and how wrong he had been by believing it. They were not winners, not anymore. You cannot stay a winner forever, because Gordain's Game never truly ends and forgetting that means losing, always.

And that one day – the day they stepped past the line they had for so long thought they'd never cross, the day the four of them sat with a drink and first began talking about the Nonary Project – they were setting in motion a chain of events they'd eventually lose control of, one that would result with their demise.

It was the day they all _lost_.


End file.
